


Good Boy

by mywrittensins



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Dom/sub, Excessive Swearing, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, I mean slow fucking build, M/M, Minor Character Death, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Slow Build, Slow burn like no other, Smut, So much angst, Subdrop, Subspace, when i say slow build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-01-10 19:45:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 74,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12306411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywrittensins/pseuds/mywrittensins
Summary: The tabloids never really bothered him. Not when he had Kenta, welcoming him home every night (given that he came home at a reasonable hour), glass of champagne and bath ready, sweet praises and good boys whispered in his hair as they settled into bed. Who had time to worry about the press when things were so good?Good. What a despicable word.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed

 

Uruha remembers the first time he had put on this collar. Kenta had presented it to him with a shy smile, the kind of smile you don’t often see on doms, and that was when Uruha  _ knew,  _ knew this was the dom for him. He finally knew how all those subs felt when they had said they didn’t just love their dom, they  _ lived _ for their doms.

The collar was thin, black leather with Kenta’s kanji embroidered in the back in gold. On the front there was a tiny silver chain with a black cross that hung and sat just in the hollow of Uruha’s throat when he wore it. It was perfect. Beautiful and elegant, like their love, but simple enough to hide beneath the collar of his coat if needed. 

“If you don’t want the fans to know, I understand,” Kenta had said softly, his calloused fingers swiping the hair from Uruha’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine as he clasped the collar. “That’s why my name’s on the back. Your hair will cover it when the paps are around.” His hands gently laid his hair back in place, moving from his neck to his shoulders and oh so gently brushing down the sides of Uruha’s arms. “You can take it off for lives if it really-” He didn’t get to finish. 

Uruha had spun around, his chest bubbling in happiness as he kissed him. “I love it,” he breathed, smiling so widely that it wasn’t really a kiss, just a clash of teeth and lips, their breaths mingling. Kenta had chuckled, a deep sound in his chest that made Uruha’s knees weak as strong arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him close. 

“You do?” he had hummed, a hint of amusement and so much fucking adoration in his voice it made Uruha’s chest tight. He nodded.

“I don’t care what the fans think. I never want to take it off,” Uruha admitted shyly and Kenta beamed, kissing him softly.

“Good boy,” he had murmured against his lips, and Uruha fucking  _ melted _ . 

 

It hadn’t taken the fans long to catch on. They deserved more credit than they got, in Uruha’s opinion. Just peeking out over the collar of his shirt, the black leather had blended in with the other chains and jewelry he had worn for that visual. It was when the same black leather was spotted in the next visual that the whispers had started. Things became official when a fan had snapped a picture of him at the airport, jeweled cross sparkling under the garage lights as they made their way to the van. It became known: Uruha, the only sub in the GazettE, had a dom.

 

The tabloids never really bothered him. Not when he had Kenta, welcoming him home every night (given that he came home at a reasonable hour), glass of champagne and bath ready, sweet praises and  _ good boy _ s whispered in his hair as they settled into bed. Who had time to worry about the press when things were so  _ good _ ? 

 

When things were good. 

 

Good. What a despicable word. 

 

Good was a word full of lies and deceit. Broken promises, whispered into the darkness. “Good” was a safety blanket, one that had been ripped away from him all too soon. He hadn’t been ready. He hadn’t been ready to lose Kenta. But fuck that. The Universe decides when people come and go, and it wasn’t going to wait for Uruha to be ready. It would have had to wait forever. 

Kenta had been ripped from him in the worst way possible. It had been a rough week for the whole band, but even more so for Uruha. Late night rehearsals and the pressure to deliver had kept him busy even on off days. He had barely enough time to eat dinner, let alone spend time with Kenta. He couldn’t remember the last time he dropped, and it was putting him on edge. His nerves were fried, paranoia peeking out from the corners of his brain. He grew quiet during interviews, then during rehearsals. Everyone could see it. A breakdown was coming soon. That morning, in his rush to get to work, Uruha had accidentally knocked Kenta’s coffee from the table, smashing his dom’s favorite mug. Kenta had soothed him with calm words and soft touches, but not before tears were spilled and insecurities had been whimpered. 

_ He wasn’t a good boy. _ He was working too hard, neglecting his dom.  _ He was a terrible sub _ . It had taken Kenta nearly an hour to calm him down, another half hour to get him ready to go to work again. 

The text came just before lunch. 

“ _ I have your favorite for lunch, I’m bringing it by the studio <3”  _

The call had come a half hour later.

Hit by a drunk driver, crossing the street to Uruha’s studio, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Internal bleeding and shock had caused his heart to go into cardiac arrest and he had died instantly, a mangled mess on the gravel road. 

Shaking hands reached up to grip the black leather around his throat as a sob was torn from Uruha’s lips. 

His dom was gone. And it was his fault.

 

“You don’t have to do this,” Reita says softly, leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pocket. He has a sad look in his eyes as he watches his friend, his voice gentle and cautious. 

Uruha doesn’t meet his gaze, focusing on lacing up his boots. “I should.” 

“Are you ready to?”

Uruha’s fingers pause halfway through the bow. “I don’t think I’ll ever be,” he admits in a small voice, his throat hoarse. A year later and the tears still come when it’s late at night and he’s wishing for Kenta’s arms. Uruha wakes up every morning, eyes bloodshot and throat sore from the sobs, feeling entirely too overwhelmed. Everything feels like a chore. Even music. 

It’s been Reita, who’s called him each day, coaxing him out of bed in a soft voice over the phone, picking him up outside the apartment with a cup of coffee, that has kept him going. Uruha knows he would truly be lost without his best friend.

“The fans will notice,” Reita points out. “Are you ready for that?”

“I have to do it. I-I have to let him go.” Uruha’s voice wobbles and Reita has to furiously push down his dom instincts to go comfort him. Instead he nods. 

“Okay. Do you want me to go?” he asks after a moment and Uruha hums a yes. “Ten minutes. I’ll come back and get you, okay?” 

“Thank you Rei,” Uruha forces out, meeting his eyes for the first time through the dressing room mirror. The blonde nods and backs out, shutting the door behind him.

Uruha waits until the footsteps are far before sliding out of his chair and onto the floor in front of his gym back. He roots through it, his fingers closing over an object wrapped in cloth. He takes it out, unwrapping the faded X tshirt and pressing it to his nose, inhaling Kenta’s scent desperately. The bottle of cologne is heavy in his hand and he takes another moment, setting the bottle down before reaching up to run his fingers over the leather on his neck. 

The leather still feels new and crisp under his fingertips Years of wearing it day after day have made it more yielding, molding to the shape of Uruha’s neck, but he’s been careful to take excellent care of it, and so it shows little signs of wear. Uruha takes a deep breath, trembling hands reaching around to unclasp it. He lets out a soft whimper as it falls from his neck, leaving him feeling bare and exposed. Instantly his brain tries to cope.

_ Maybe Reita was right. I don’t /have/ to do this, right? I could keep it on. I don’t want to let Kenta go- _

He shakes his head to clear the thoughts.

_ No. Reita was wrong. I owe it to Kenta and I owe it to the fans. _

 

Uruha picks the collar back up and wraps it in Kenta’s shirt, kissing the bundle. 

_ I owe it to myself _ .

He places the bundle back into his bag, safely tucked away. There’s a knock on the door. “Ko, you ready?” Reita calls and Uruha takes another shaky breath.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” he calls. Picking up the bottle of cologne, he spritzes a bit on each of his wrists, rubbing it beneath his jaw and sighing a bit as the scent of Kenta’s cologne fills the air. His body relaxes despite the absence of the collar and he tucks the bottle away as well, standing and glancing at himself in the mirror. His neck looks naked and pale but he hikes up his collar, fixing his hair and making his way out. 

Reita gives him a once over as he walks out, his eyes lingering a bit on the hollow of his throat. Uruha looks away self-consciously and Reita averts his eyes.

“Sorry. You good?”

Uruha nods, hiking up his collar as much as he can. “Ready.” Reita nods as well and walks towards the stage. Shuffling behind him, Uruha rubs his thumb and middle finger together. Noticing his nervousness, Reita touches his elbow gently, the reassurance instantly steadying Uruha. He lets out a soft sigh and straightens his shoulders, walking a bit more confidently.

When they reached the stage wings Uruha forces a smile on his lips, bracing himself for the looks of worry from his bandmates. Kai gives him a slight nod, a silent question, and Uruha returns it, avoiding Aoi’s gaze. Ruki, bless him, rounds everyone up for a quick huddle, knowing that what Uruha needs is not more sympathy. They get into a huddle, arms around each other, and Uruha’s briefly thankful that his shirt covers his shoulders and back fully, afraid of what might happen if either Reita or Aoi touches his bare skin. Both Ruki and Kai say a couple words before they duck and shout. Uruha’s knees feel weak as they bend, but he shakes it off and pulls away, wringing his hands as they wait to go on stage, trying to keep himself occupied so he won’t start touching his throat. Ruki slips by him, briefly patting his back. 

“You’ll be fine,” he says firmly and quietly, and Uruha relaxes a bit. As a switch, Ruki’s his greatest ally. He’s not slave to the instinct to coddle and baby Uruha that many doms have, and though he can be harsh in his affections, it’s sometimes exactly what Uruha needs. The sub mumbles a quick thanks, and follows Reita onto stage.

  
  
  


Reita chuckles as Ruki steps up onto the monitor and swivels his hips. The girls scream, the guys pretend not to, but there’s no denying that all the fans love it. Reita keeps his eyes trained on the crowd, but he can only imagine the terribly hidden smirk on Kai’s face as he watches his boyfriend tease eager eyes. Ruki turns his head a bit, glancing at Uruha out of the corner of his eye and Reita realizes that this is normally the point at which Uruha would join him, one leg up on the monitor to turn this one act into a duo. But Uruha remains oblivious, his gaze trained on the patch of floor between the stage and the railings that held the crowd back. Reita frowns and momentarily reverts his gaze back to his own bass, making sure to not screw up. When he looks back up again, Uruha’s bobbing his head and grinning at the crowd, empty gaze erased. Reita sighs a bit under his breath but looks away and back at the crowd, not wanting to clue anyone in on anything.

He knows the lack of collar is definitely bothering his best friend. He also knows this is something that the brunette needs to do for himself. It’s been nearly a year since the accident and Reita’s only watched Uruha sink deeper and deeper into a depression. 

There are plenty subs who are happily single. It’s no secret that there’s plenty of ways for a sub to drop themselves, and he knows from their time living together that Uruha’s no stranger to one night stands. But he also knows that Uruha has a tendency to hold onto things with an iron grip. Not that he needs to let go of Kenta, just...move on. And he knows that Uruha knows that too. It’s actually doing it that’s the hard part. 

Now, watching his friend flawlessly tap through another solo, Reita feels pride fill his chest. He’s extremely proud of the brunette for taking initiative tonight, though he had questioned the effectiveness of doing it just before a show. Kai had thrown a fit, wanting Uruha to be at his best, but Ruki had stopped him before he had completely shut Uruha down. Reita had admitted that he didn’t completely understand it either, and despite Uruha’s best efforts the night before to explain it to him over drinks, he still didn’t. Then again, he’s a dom, so he likely wouldn’t have understood, even if he had been sober. But he trusts Uruha.

Reita’s gaze strays over to the guitarist again and catches the exact moment that Uruha misses the correct fret. Aoi’s solo keeps the crowd from noticing, but not the rest of the band. Kai gives Uruha a sharp glare while Ruki and Aoi take over damage control, swaying and jumping for all it’s worth. Reita saunters over, giving Uruha a reassuring look before turning and pressing their backs together, trying to give him some silent support. 

Subtle but clear, Uruha leans back, sagging against Reita, but when Reita makes his way back over to his side of the stage, he’s too busy noticing the way Uruha’s pale, naked throat glinted under the stage lights to catch the pleading look in the sub’s eyes. 

Uruha hands his guitar off to the guitar tech as he heads back stage, trying to slow his breathing. He can feel a drop coming on, as it normally does after a particularly taxing show, but with the combination of missing his collar, and not having been dropped in a considerable amount of time, it’s stronger than usual. On normal nights, he has the willpower to stave it off till he gets home and into the bath. Tonight, it’s all happening too fast. 

“Good job tonight!” Aoi exclaims but Uruha pushes past him, all but running to the green room, shutting the door and locking it behind him. He kneels in front of his bag, ruffling urgently through it until he finds his collar, and quickly clasps it on. The feeling of light, barely there restriction around his throat instantly soothes his nerves and he scoots back to lean against the wall. Uruha’s fingers move to his throat, rubbing over the smooth leather and concentrating on his breathing, hoping to push the drop away. 

It’s not working.

Reita knocks on the door. “Ko? You in there?” 

He can’t breath. 

Another knock. “Give me a few!!’ Uruha shouts at the door. No response comes, but neither does another knock and he takes that as a victory. But the breaths aren’t getting easier. He doesn’t like it, but he knows he’s going to have to drop, right here, right now. 

Grabbing his phone, Uruha quickly sets an alarm for fifteen minutes from now. Next, he plugs in his headphones and opens his voicemail, pressing play. His fingers return to the collar, tracing the engraved initials on the back as he begins.

“Hey baby, it’s Kenta. Just wanted to let you know that the boss let me off early tonight which means…” His voice had that lilt that Uruha knows meant he was smiling. “I’m picking you up from the studio and taking you out. Think about where you want to go. And don’t give me any shit about price ranges. I’m spoiling you tonight. You deserve it baby,” He crooned. “I love you.” 

Uruha feels his body melt against the wall. His mind starts to get fuzzy as he focuses on Kenta’s voice. The next voicemail plays.

 

“Hey gorgeous, I saw your interview. I know it’s like three in the morning there right now but I couldn’t wait. You are the cutest, you know that? And your laugh- when the reporter asked you about the tour and you giggled- god I miss you. I can’t wait for you to come home. I know it’s only a few more weeks but I’m excited for your return. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms and pamper you like the good boy you are,” he purred and Uruha shivers happily. He closes his eyes as Kenta’s voice fills his head and a cathartic kind of giddiness fills his chest. He feels light and fuzzy and free. The next voicemail starts and as Kenta murmurs his undying love and devotion to him, Uruha drops. 

 

When Uruha resurfaces ten minutes later, it’s to the sound of his alarm. He covers his eyes with his arm, taking a few seconds to breath and clear his head before taking out his headphones and standing slowly to get dressed. It takes him another couple minutes to feel fully awake and he quickly packs, slipping out of the green room. Reita’s waiting a respectable distance from the door, pretending to play a game on his phone.   
“You good?” he asks softly once he notices that Uruha’s out. The brunette quickly nods, clearing his throat. 

“Yeah. Sorry.” He says quietly but Reita quickly shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re all going out for drinks. You coming?” Reita pushes off from the wall, and makes to go back into the green room to change. Uruha sighs a bit, biting his lip.

“I don’t know if I-” he starts and Reita gives him a reassuring smile. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself. We can drop you off at home on the way. Your place or mine?” The blonde hums and Uruha looks away as he strips off his shirt, revealing his muscled back.

“Yours?” he asks in a small voice and the blonde sends him another grin. 

“Yeah. I just went grocery shopping so feel free to raid the fridge. Leave my milk though,” he adds, giving him a playful look and Uruha rolls his eyes, the hint of a smile curling on his lips.

“Thanks Rei.” 

“You are very welcome.” Reita changes into his pants and slips on his shoes, putting on a mask as the others walk in, looking bone-dead exhausted. Kai immediately plops down, putting his hands back into the ice bucket that the stage hand had brought along.  

“You sure you guys are going to go out?” Uruha asks in amusement. Ruki grins wickedly. 

“Oh yeah. Don’t worry about Kai, his refractory period is stunningly short,” he snickers and Aoi rolls his eyes.

“We get it, great sex, great dick, you can shut up and put your pants on now,” The guitarist grumbles and Kai gives Ruki a glare.

“Agreed, you can stop telling everyone about our sex life now, thank you very much,” he murmurs, but there’s no real anger in his voice. 

Uruha feels the giddiness from his drop slowly start to bleed out. A deep ache settles in his chest, and he struggles to swallow the lump in his throat. Hearing about Kai and Ruki’s relationship is like a needle popping the balloon of euphoria. It hadn’t been a deep enough drop. He needs to get home and just curl up with a bottle of wine in the bath. ASAP.

“I’ll be waiting out front,” he says quietly and shoulders his bag, slipping out of the room. Reita follows a minute later. The two stand by the door, backs against the wall and shoulders barely touching as they wait. Uruha soaks up the quiet comfort, silently thanking the gods above for Reita. It’s  a couple more minutes before the silence is broken.

“Do you want to talk?” Reita asks, keeping his voice low. Uruha chews on his bottom lip.

“I don’t know,” he whispers back. “I don’t know if I can?” He tries and Reita nods.

“I can’t-”

“You can’t imagine what I’m going through. I know,” Uruha gives Reita a small smile. “You don’t have to. I don’t expect you to.” 

“I know. Just, if you need to talk, or if you need to cry, or binge bad movies, or play video games until four am, or just punch something- I’m here. You know that right?” he asks softly and Uruha chuckles. 

“You’d let me punch you?” He asks, turning to lean on his shoulder so he can face Reita.

“Hell yeah.”

“As hard as I want? To really get out the frustration?” Uruha prods in amusement. Reita hesitates.

“Maybe not,” he murmures and Uruha chuckles. 

“Wuss,” he teases and Reita chokes, making a sound of indignation.

“Excuse you!” He gasps and Uruha laughs. “I am trying to be kind here!” 

“Oh really? Is that what you’re doing? Cause from what I can tell, you’re just giving me false hopes. Offering for me to take out my frustrations and then taking it back. How disappointing. What a terrible friend,” He goads. 

“You’re an asshole, you know that? Lightly. You can punch me, very lightly. And nowhere sensitive.” 

“You just named every part of you, Rei,” he snickers and the blonde glares playfully. 

“Now you’re just being mean.” 

“How do you two have the energy to flirt right now?” Aoi sighs as he passes, cigarette out and ready to use as soon as he passes through the venue doors. Uruha sighs and Reita rolls his eyes. 

“Are you exhausted too? Does that mean you’re not going out drinking?” He asks. Aoi raises an eyebrow.

“Are you?”

Reita groans.“That means no, doesn’t it?” He follows quickly as Aoi starts to walk towards the van. “Come on, you can’t leave me alone with Kai and Ruki! That’s suicide!” he groans.

“Reita-” 

“I’ll pay? Please?” the blonde begs as Uruha follows behind, watching in quiet amusement. Aoi sighs and considers it for a moment, looking like he’s going to say something to Uruha before deciding better. 

“Fine. I’ll stay for two drinks. But if they start to get handsy, I’m out,” he says and Reita grins triumphantly. 

“You won’t regret it!” 

“Yeah I will,” The raven-haired man sighs and climbs into the van, Uruha following and Reita squishing in after them. Ruki and Kai join them a few minutes later. 

“Reita’s and then drinks?” Their manager asks and there are nods all around as the driver pulls out onto the road. Uruha feels the tension and any remaining energy drain out of him and into the leather seat beneath him as his eyes droop The city lights rush past the window and the soft whispers of Kai and Ruki in the row in front of him slowly lull him into a state between awake and asleep, and he finds himself leaning against Reita’s shoulder sleepily. He briefly entertains the thought of moving, feeling a bit bad for taking over first Reita’s house and now his personal space, but the blonde makes no indication that he’s bothered, and he’s just so comfortable. 

“Get some sleep, will you?” Reita murmurs softly as they pull up outside his house. He gently ruffles Uruha's hair. “Don’t wait up for me. And remember, leave the muscle milk,” he calls quickly as Uruha slips out of the van, rolling his eyes a bit. 

“Yes, Rei, I’ll leave the milk!” he promises, waving as he shuffles to the door and opens it. The van drives away and Uruha shuts the door behind himself, the silence of the apartment building filling his ears. He sighs in relief. Finally, some peace and quiet. 

 

* * *

 

Two hours later, when Reita returns to the apartment, he can tell that Uruha hasn't gone to bed like he had hoped. The brunette's shoes, jacket, and bag are sprawled out over the entryway and the lights in both the kitchen and the bedroom are on. Soft music can be heard coming from the other side of the apartment and as Reita makes his way through the hallway, cleaning as he goes, he can tell it's coming from the bathroom.

Reita takes a quick pitstop in the kitchen, sighing when he finds an empty, unused wine glass on the counter. Evidently, Uruha's forgone the glass and gone straight for the bottle. He puts the glass away before continuing to the bathroom, knocking gently on the door when he reaches it. "Uru?" There's a soft splash from inside. 

"Hmm?" Uruha's voice barely reaches his ears over the music.

"You okay in there? Can I come in?" There's some more splashing and the clink of a champagne bottle. 

"Yeah," Uruha sighs after a moment and the music turns off as Reita pushes open the door, taking in the sight before him. Uruha's curled up in the bath, water and bubbles up to his chin. A half empty champagne bottle sits by the side of the tub and Reita nearly sighs in relief. Uruha isn't drunk yet. 

"Mind if I sit?" he asks softly, not giving Uruha much of a chance to say no as he brings over a stool and plops down. Uruha takes another sip from the bottle and watches Reita expectantly, obviously wanting him to speak first. Reita takes a breath and his eyes stray to the leather collar fit snugly around his throat. "H-How are you doing?" he stutteres out a response quickly, redirecting his eyes back up to the brunette's. Uruha shrugs a bit, having expected the question. 

"I'm tired. The live was intense," he says and looks away. Reita bites his lip. 

"I can imagine," he says softly, then pauses, seeing if Uruha wants to say anything else. When he doesn't, Reita takes initiative. "I know you said you couldn't talk back at the venue, but what do you think about now?" he asks softly. Uruha purses his lips and stays quiet. Reita doesn't say anything more, not wanting to push him, and it's a couple more minutes before Uruha speaks again.

"It was... really overwhelming," he says quietly, the words leaving his lips in a soft sigh. "More so than I expected." Reita waits for him to say more, but again he doesn't so Reita prods a bit.

"In a good or bad way?" he asks cautiously. Uruha bites his lip.

"Both?" he tries.

"I'm not really sure what that means," Reita says softly and Uruha flushes, swirling a finger in the bubbles by his chin. 

"I haven't been dropped in a while," he admits quietly, so quiet that Reita isn't sure if he's heard him correctly. "By someone other than myself," Uruha quickly corrects himself and Reita blushes but nods.

"Okay. And this has to do with the collar...?" he encourages gently. 

"It just means it's more difficult for me to..." Uruha searches for the right words. "Control my drops? Especially without the familiarity of this." He gestures to the collar and then sinks further into the water, as if embarrassed. "I probably won't be taking this off again, at least until I can get dropped." His fingers return to the collar, rubbing it gently. His eyes stray down to the bubbles and his expression closes off once more and Reita sighs, knowing that's all he'll be getting out of his friend tonight. He nods and stands. 

"Come to bed? I'll take the couch," he says softly, picking up the bottle. Uruha's gaze shoots up and he starts to protest.

"No, Rei, I'll take the-"

"You've had a rough day, and I'm sure sitting cramped up in the bath isn't helping. Take my bed," he says seriously and steps out of the room, not giving Uruha a chance to argue. 

Ten minutes later, when Uruha pads out of the bathroom and into the bedroom in sweatpants and a shirt that's two sizes too big, Reita dims the lights and waits for the brunette to climb into bed. 

"Night Aki," Uruha murmurs, snuggling beneath the sheets, and Reita's faintly reminded of a sleepy kitten. He smiles fondly and turns off the lights, heading for the door. 

"Night Kouyou," he says softly. Uruha hums softly in content and Reita chuckles, then as an afterthought, adds, "I'm proud of you." 

But no answer comes, and after hearing Uruha's soft snores, Reita realizes his friend is already asleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed  
> I meant to update much earlier but this chapter kind of came out of nowhere and I had to rewrite it a million times before I was even remotely happy with it.

It's another three lives before Uruha has the strength and confidence to attempt to take off the collar during a show. He's been working on going without it during the day, and putting it back on for the shows, all with mild success. He makes breakfast without it, choosing to make one of Kenta's favorite meals instead (smoked salmon and miso soup). He takes it off in the shower, eyes darting back and forth between the shower spray and the collar sitting on the porcelain sink counter. He had even tried to take it off while he cleaned the house on Tuesday, but had to put it back on when his shaking hands nearly dropped the china. By Friday, he feels confident enough in his self-restraint to try again, and even makes sure to drop himself just before he leaves, leaving his collar in his gym bag, slung over his shoulder. 

Backstage, Uruha sits, strumming at his guitar absentmindedly. Reita sits beside him, eyes briefly straying to the pale expanse of throat just barely visible over the collar of his shirt. 

"Hey," Reita says softly, giving him a careful smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he hums, picking at the strings. Reita nods and fiddles with his noseband. The two are silent for a moment before Reita speaks again, hesitation clear in his tone.

"No collar?" Uruha bites his lip and suppresses a sigh.

"It's in my bag," he says softly and he's not sure sure if the look that comes over Reita's face is knowing or relieved. He's not sure if he wanted to know. The two are silent again for a stretch of time before Reita speaks up again.

"Should we come up with a game plan?" Uruha turns to look at him in confusion. 

"A game plan?" Reita nods. 

"A game plan. You know, if something happens on stage?" 

"Nothing's going to happen on stage," Uruha protests. 

"Like how nothing happened last time?" Reita snorts and the guitarist gives him a glare. 

"I'll be fine Rei, I know how to handle myself." 

"But what if you're not fine?" 

"I'll be fin-"

"But what if you're not?" Reita cuts him off and Uruha finds himself pressing his nails to his thigh in frustration. He looks down at his guitar again, starting to pick a quiet tune. "Please Ko. I just want to help," Reita's voice is soft and begging now, and Uruha reminds himself that his friend can easily use his dominant voice to command Uruha to speak, but hasn't. And for that he's grateful. Uruha suppresses another sigh and recalls about the last concert, trying to remember what had helped and what had hurt.

"Keep Aoi and Kai away from me. And stay back as well. You mean well, I know, but if I start to lose control, it's difficult to gain it back with so many doms fighting to help me. If I need you, I'll come over to you, and the thing you did last time, letting me lean against you, was helpful, I guess," he says all this quietly. "Just wait for me to come to you first, please." 

Reita listens silently, nodding a bit. "Okay," he says softly. "I can do that. Do you want me to talk to any of the others?" 

"Maybe just Ruki." Reita nods again. 

More silence ensues.

"Are we done?" Uruha asks softly. Reita nods quickly and stands. 

"Thank you, Ko."

Uruha gives him a small smile and stands, putting his guitar down. He's grateful for his friend's support, extremely grateful. But it's been over a year. If he can't get over Kenta alone, then what use is he? A sub that can't do this one thing isn't worth shit. He isn't worth a dom. He's useless.

Uruha makes his way to the bathroom, slipping inside and letting out a soft breath. He pauses in front of the mirror, staring at himself. He doesn't look... bad. His stage makeup covers up the worst of it, at least. His fingers move up to touch his neck, calluses rubbing over his adam's apple. The thoughts of insecurity never leave, apparently. He just wishes it could be over- he wishes he could just forget Kenta already.

No, he doesn't meant that. He doesn't want to forget Kenta.

He just wishes he was stronger. God, that's all he wants. He just wants to be okay, to not be hurting. He's tired of staying up at night crying, tired of feeling like half of a broken whole, tired of the pitying looks from others. He's tired of feeling useless. 

He just wants to be strong.

He just wants to be-

The door bangs open as Ruki walks in, and Uruha yanks his hand away from his neck, feigning fixing his hair. Ruki pretends not to notice as he walks over to the mirror to fix his lipstick. The two stand in silence for a moment. 

That seems to be the status quo for his interactions with other members lately. 

"Reita spoke to me," the singer says after a moment and Uruha meets his eyes in the mirror.

"Oh?" 

"I like your plan. No fan service?" 

Uruha pauses. He hasn't even thought about that. He hums under his breath as he thinks before nodding. "No fan service. I want the bare minimum, just to see if I can make it through," he admits quietly. Ruki nods, reapplying the black lipstick. 

"I'm proud of you," Ruki says after a moment more. Uruha looks up in surprise as the singer caps the lipstick tube. "We all are." 

Uruha looks down at the sink. "Thanks Ru," he says quietly, not sure how else to respond. The singer just nods and then walks out, his heels clicking on the tile floor. Uruha hears the door swing shut and he lets out another breath before looking back at his reflection. 

He can do this.

 

Kai immediately confronts him upon his exit from the restroom.

"You're not wearing your collar. Are you going to be okay?"

Uruha bristles at the tone of voice, the harsh wording making his sub instincts cower. Everyone needs to stop asking him that. It's their job to baby him. "Yeah, I'll be fine," he promises, but Kai doesn't back down. Of course he doesn't. It's not in his nature. 

"You messed up last time. Do you have your collar with you?" 

"Yes, but-"

"You'll put it on between encores if things get bad?" 

"Maybe, I don't know-"

"I think you should. I'm worried about you Uruha, I don't think you should push yourself on this." 

Uruha's fists clench by his sides and he resists the urge to snap. "I know myself, Kai, and I know my limits. I won't mess up again."

Kai hesitates and then opens his mouth to say something, but Ruki shuts him up with a look. Uruha mirrors it. In defeat, Kai gives a slight apologetic nod and backs off. 

"You're right. Sorry," he says quietly, turning to walk away. "Stage in five." 

Uruha chews on his bottom lip

God, things were already not going his way. 

 

* * *

 

Uruha leaves  the stage with a grin, cheeks flushed with excitement and adrenaline, hair mussed and veins buzzing with pride.

He did it. 

He's fucking boss and no one can tell him otherwise. 

Hands ruffle his hair and pat his back, and Uruha positively glows as the guys' arms wrap around each other. A muscled arm wraps around his neck in a playful headlock, ruffling his hair. 

"You did it Shima!" Reita exclaims happily in his ear, and Uruha's too ecstatic to complain about the volume of his best friend's voice. Reita pulls away a fraction as everyone wraps their arms around each other. The group hug lasts for all of two seconds before exhaustion overtakes them and worn bodies stumble to the greenroom to collapse on their respective chairs, couches, and in Kai's case- the floor. Uruha ends up on the couch beside Reita, heads back and towels over their faces. The green room is silent save quiet breaths as everyone's lungs struggle to catch up, and it's a while before someone speaks. 

"Drinks?" 

"Oh my god."

"How can you even think about that right now?"

Uruha lightly slaps Reita's chest for the suggestion but nods his head. "I agree with Rei. Drinks?"  The others mumble and grumble for a moment, and Uruha peeks an eye out from underneath his towel. "Come on~" 

"We're in," Ruki sighs after a moment, much to Kai's grumble of distaste, and Aoi responds a moment later with a sigh of his own. 

"Fine, but I'm not driving. I'm too tired," he hums. Kai nods in agreement, ice swishing in the bucket as his body moves. 

"We can go to the bar on fifth block. It's a ten minute walk from here, and then another ten to Aoi's place. Reita can drive everyone else home after that."

"What? When did I volunteer?" Reita whines.

"You didn't." 

 

* * *

 

 

Two drinks in and Uruha's already high confidence is soaring. He'd gotten through the show, had played better than he had in a long time, and now he's happily drunk and surrounded by his friends. His friends that support him, love him. His friends that are proud of him.

The room's swaying a bit, and even Reita's bad jokes seem particularly funny tonight. Uruha's feeling warm and fuzzy and happy and loved. 

What more could he ask for?

Although- his bottle is empty. That's a little disappointing. And needs to be remedied immediately. 

Uruha stands, swaying a bit on his feet. "Another round?" Reita and Aoi nod, tipping their heads in thanks before going back to arguing about the best type of string- nickel or steel (Uruha's in favor of steel, but he's not about to get in the middle of this). Ruki and Kai don't answer, too enraptured in their own quiet conversation, sharing a bottle of sake and a cigarette between them. Uruha shrugs and slips away to the bar. After asking for two more bottles of sake and whatever soda Reita had been drinking, the brunette nods in thanks to the bartender and is suddenly met with a wave of nausea. 

Oh- well he's definitely more drunk than he thought.

Uruha grabs onto the bar, leaning on his elbows and letting his head fall limp onto his arms for a moment while the room stops spinning. 

He nearly has a heart attack when he looks back up. 

Blue eyes gaze at him curiously, a handsome smile on the man's lips, and Uruha feels a fluttering in his stomach as the man steps closer. 

"You okay?" The man has a deep, confident voice, and as he grows closer, Uruha feels that fluttering turn into an uncomfortable squirm. This man is definitely a dom. Uruha pushes himself up on one hand, trying to appear a little bigger.

"I'm fine, thanks," he says quietly, not uncivilly. He flashes the man a polite smile before turning back to the bar and hoping he'd get the hint. He isn't looking tonight.

The man doesn't get it. 

"Can I buy you a drink?" he moves closer and Uruha feels irritation rise in his chest. The dom is handsome, and has a kind enough looking face. His voice has a false tone of concern, and his eyes scream lust, but that's not necessarily a bad thing, right? Uruha doesn't mind a one night stand every once in a while. A handsome man trying to pick him up at a bar- he should feel sexy, flattered even, right? 

Except he doesn't. Because yes- he's not a stranger to one night stands. He enjoys them every once in a while, because come on- everyone has needs. But it's seriously starting to get on his nerves how differently doms treat him when he is or isn't collared. With a collar, they avoid him like poison ivy, all polite smiles and hands off. No dom would ever dare touch another dom's sub. Without a collar- doms flock like moths to a flame, eager to get to the uncollared sub first, and then throw him away when they were done with him. They treat him like property to be taken and used when they please. It's sick.

And a part of him feels just a little peeved that it's only been a month or so since he first took off Kenta's collar, and less than three hours after he successfully played a live without Kenta's collar, and another dom's already laying claim to him with his eyes and ignoring his obvious discomfort. 

Can he not have one night in peace with his friends?

"No. I don't know you," he says, searching for the bartender with his drinks. The man moves closer. Uruha's sub instincts coil in his stomach uncomfortably, the impulse to book it across the bar and into the arms of the nearest trustable dom (probably Reita) creeping up his spine. He takes a deep breath and tries to push it down. He hadn't given in during the show, and he won't now. 

"Well then shall we get to know each other? My name is Tatsui, but you can call me sir," the man purrs. His breath reeks of alcohol and Uruha tries not to retch. This is escalating way too fast. 

"No thank you. Please leave me alone, I'm with some friends," he says quickly, giving the man's shoulder a gentle push. The man either doesn't hear him or ignore him, leering at his neck. Alarms go off in his head, screaming for him to run or cower or bare his neck or just start crying- anything to get him out of this situation. 

"No collar, so obviously up for grabs-" 

Uruha chokes on his breath- this dom's way too bold- and suddenly he's aware of the man's hand creeping up towards his backside. Fear and disgust and pent up frustration boil up in his chest and instantly he sobers up, whirling to grab the man's wrist with surprising strength. The room sways again, but Uruha ignores it, fixing his eyes on the man's with fire. 

"Do. Not. Touch. Me," he growls, digging his nails into the man's wrist. The man's eyes widen a fraction, then narrow and his lips turn up in a sneer. 

"A bratty sub, huh? I ought to put you in your place-" His voice takes on a deeper quality that makes Uruha's knees grow weak and his insides shudder. 

Uruha's fist is flying at his face before either of them realize it. 

"What the fuck!?" The dom curses in anger, hands cupping his nose to try and stem the sudden gush of red. The crowd around them gasps and moves out of the way, watching the drama unfold with rapt attention. Uruha stands in shock for a fraction of a second.

Did he really just do that?

Oh fuck.

Oh-  _Hell yeah._

He just did that. 

Squaring his shoulders and glaring at the man, Uruha pushes the sub instincts (now screaming at him to get on his knees and apologize to the fucking dom what the fuck was he thinking he was going to get himself  _killed_ )  down where he can no longer hear them. None of that tonight. He's his own boss. 

"I am  _not_ your sub," he snarls, fists trembling at his sides. "If you  _ever_ do that again, I swear I will-" 

"Holy shit, Ko-" Reita gasps from behind him, eyes wide. "What did you do?" 

Uruha's lips curl in a sneer, not taking his eyes off the dom. "This asshole just tried to top me," he spits and Reita lets out a low growl, glare honing in on the guy. 

"Why I'd better-" The blonde starts forward but Uruha grabs his elbow.

"I already gave him what he deserved. He's not worth anymore of our time." 

The dom bares his teeth in anger at Uruha. "You little bitch-" 

"Come on Rei, let's go," Uruha says, turning. The sub trembles with barely contained excitement, his head held high and pride rushing through his chest. 

He just stood up for himself. He just punched a fucking dom- a dom trying to  _top_ him. If standing up to a dom is hard, standing up to a dom that's commanding you is damn near impossible. Resisting a dom's command goes against a sub's very nature.

But he did it. 

He fucking did it!!

Reita quickly follows, a gentle hand on the small of his back, and Uruha's pretty sure he's gonna faint with giddiness if that reassuring presence went away. The bassist gestures to the others as they pass, steering Uruha towards the door and Uruha complies gladly, taking a deep gulp of air as he steps outside. 

"Holy motherfucker-" a blast of euphoria hits him and Uruha nearly stumbles as giddy laughter bursts from his chest. "Reita did you see that, holy shit! I punched him!" He doubles over onto his knees, his breath coming out in gasps as the onslaught of emotions hit him like a freight train. The pride and adrenaline flip in his stomach and he suddenly feels like he was going to puke. "Oh my fucking god I punched him! I punched a dom! I punched a dom Reita! What the fuck was I thinking oh my god he's going to kill me I'm so screwed holy-" He's hit with a wave of vertigo and stumbles a bit, his chest tightening in panic. 

He just punched a dom in the middle of a bar. An angry dom. Who the fuck does that? Who the fuck thinks punching a big angry drunk dom in the middle of a bar is a good idea!? He's going to die. He's going to to puke. No- he's going to puke and then die. He's going to die in a puddle of his own puke holy shit-

"He's gonna find me Rei, oh my god what have I done he's gonna find me and fucking murder me in my sleep what do I do-" 

"Hey, fuck- Hey, hey-" the blonde catches his stumbling friend by the shoulders and pulls him upright. "Calm down, breathe Ko. Look at me." 

Uruha looks up, hot tears pooling in his eyes. His chest heaves as he struggles to breathe properly, but Reita gently takes his face in his hands, forcing them to look at one another. The blonde's face holds a mix of emotions- concern, urgency, a tad bit of fear, but also pride and amusement and a big smile.

"You did good," he soothes softly.

Oh. That feels nice.

Uruha feels his joints slowly relax. The praise fills his ears and goes straight to his chest, soothing the panicked sub. He hiccups a bit as he takes a deep breath, nodding. 

"You did good, Uru," Reita soothes again, brushing the hair out of his face. "You stood up for yourself." The brunette smiles weakly and relief pushes another hiccuped breath out of his throat. Feet pat on the pavement as the others join them, taking in the sight before them with wide eyes.

"Damn Uruha, I didn't know you had it in you," Aoi muses to his left. "That was pretty badass." Uruha pulls away from Reita's gentle grasp to turn to the other guitarist, taking in his relaxed posture and wide grin. Kai places a gentle hand on the sub's shoulder. 

"You okay?" He asks softly and Uruha quickly nods, running a shaking hand through his hair. The drummer smiles and pats his shoulder before pulling away. "Let's head home guys." The others nod in agreement. Aoi starts down the street, Kai and Ruki close behind, but Uruha suddenly finds his path blocked by Reita's back. 

"Climb on." 

"Rei, I'm not light, I-I’m bigger than you-" Uruha blanks. Reita hasn't given him a piggyback ride in years. But the blonde's persistent. 

"Come on, you deserve it. I’ve been working out, and you're too drunk to walk." That's definitely an excuse, Uruha really hasn't had that much to drink, but Reita's not backing down, and the others are getting further ahead. Grasping Reita's shoulders, Uruha jumps. Reita catches his thighs, adjusting him on his back for a moment before jogging to catch up with the others. The brunette rests his chin on Reita's shoulders, his arms loosely looped around his neck. Reita's touch on his thighs is reassuring, and any remaining tension melts out of him.

"Thanks Aki," he whispers softly in the blonde's ear and Reita hums, gently squeezing one of his thighs.

"You're welcome." 

As the group waltzes down the street, quiet at night, Uruha feels himself falling into a sense of peace that he hasn't felt in a long time. His eyes flutter shut and a small smile finds home on his lips as the others joke and laugh around him. With Reita's quiet presence holding him, sturdy and strong, Uruha slowly drifts off to sleep. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed

Uruha feels itchy. His skin crawls beneath the hot costume and his hair feels stiff and disgusting and his body's begun to ache as it always does after so many days on the road. He feels worn and strung out and he knows it was probably because he hasn't dropped in a couple days but that shouldn't matter, because he's found his strength and become a new person and a happy man, right? He hasn't worn his collar at all since that fateful night at the bar, he feels energetic (most of the time), he punched that dom in the face, he's all better! It's just the exhaustion from being on the road, and once this tour is over he can relax at home with some video games and beer and he'll recuperate once and for all. Yeah. That sounds nice. 

 

"You're spacing."

"Huh?" Uruha looks beside him at Aoi, his eyes just a bit glazed and screaming exhaustion. Aoi chuckles. He reaches over with one hand and gently ruffles Uruha's hair.

"You're spacing. And fidgeting. And you look tired. Keep your head up, this is the last one, and then we can all take a break," the dom hums, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Uruha looks down at himself, flushing in embarrassment and stopping his tapping. He turns to observe the other man, nodding a bit in response. He looks tired too. But they all do. Uruha can't remember the last time they didn't.

Uruha's lack of a response must worry Aoi because the raven haired man straightens a bit and gives him a soft look. "You okay?" 

Is he okay?

Yeah, sure.

Uruha gives a small smile and nods, straightening in his seat. "Yeah, just tired," he hums. The words don't even sound believable to his own ears. But they should, they're true after all. 

Aoi's expression doesn't relax but his body does, sinking back into the couch cushions. "Okay." He closes his eyes, arms folding over his chest. Uruha watches him for a moment, watches the worry lines in his face slowly relax, the tension in his shoulders bleed out, the steady rise and fall of his chest slow. Then the brunette stands, leaving his fellow guitarist to himself. 

They all have their pre-concert rituals. Aoi plays guitar or gets quiet. Reita flits about, using the green room doorway to do pull ups and (unintentionally) bothering everyone else. Kai and Ruki flip into power couple mode, running around and making sure everything was up to par. And Uruha?

Normally he drinks. Or sleeps. Or both. It's a little depressing, if he asks himself.

But he's a new man now! That can change! 

But to what?

Uruha starts to pace. There must be something he can do to be useful. Or not annoying. It's not rare that arguments happen between the members, causing silent seething on stage, but they try their best to avoid it. Uruha remembers the time that Aoi and Kai had gotten on one another's nerves so badly that an actual fight had broken out, and one of them had gone home with a bloody nose, the other with bruised knuckles. He definitely doesn't want to get on anyone's bad side today. The guitarist bites his lip, crossing his arms over his chest. He still feels itchy and hot, but that's probably just because he can't seem to settle. The pacing continues for a bit as Uruha's brain struggles to focus, flitting from one worry to the next, but he's shocked out of his thoughts once again by Aoi.

"You're spacing again. And now you're pacing. It's disconcerting. Come sit," The guitarist hums, not opening his eyes. Uruha pauses, glancing down at the other. Neither move for a moment until Aoi opens one eye and raises the same eyebrow. Uruha caves and sits down, blushing sheepishly. 

"Sorry. I didn't mean to bother you." 

Aoi closes his eyes again, a small amused smile on his lips.

"I know. You're really fidgety today. And you're not drinking. What's up?"

Uruha looks over at him in surprise. "Uhm... I-" he blushes and scratches the back of his neck. "I think I'm just getting a little sick. I feel really uncomfortable, and a little feverish, to be honest. But I think it's probably just from exhaustion. Like you said. We've been on the road for a while, so I'm just really tired," he says quickly. He doesn't want to worry anyone else, let alone Aoi, who was obviously trying to relax in peace and is only inviting Uruha over out of politeness. He probably only asked Uruha how he was doing out of courtesy and now the sub has opened his mouth and said too much. Fuck, why can he just never shut up?

Aoi opens his eyes again, gazing over at the other man. There's an unreadable expression on his face as he searches Uruha's, and the sub feels a little uncomfortable under Aoi's scrutinizing gaze. He's definitely said too much. 

"Are you sure? I know it's not your favorite topic to talk about, but are you holding up with the whole collar thing?" Aoi asks, his voice taking on a softer quality. Uruha flushes harder (if that's possible) and he averts his gaze. 

"Really Aoi, thank you. But I think I'm okay. I've been feeling really good, I promise." He nods his head in a polite bow and brings his gaze back up to the other guitarist, his stomach flipping uncomfortably again at the look the other is giving him. But a moment later Aoi just nods and turns away, closing his eyes again. 

"Okay. If you say so. Try to relax, okay? It helps save energy for the actual concert." 

 _I know that,_ Uruha wants to bite back, cheeks flushing again (he probably looks like fucking elmo right now, he's so red). He's not a newbie, he knows how to save energy before a live. But instead he does as Aoi said, settling down and trying not to act like a petulant child. 

Uruha slouches down on the couch, taking a deep breath through his nose. His arms cross over his chest and the fingers of his left hand involuntarily press into his right bicep, trying to push away some of the uneasiness that's flaring from within him.

Staff members flit in and out of the room. Kai calls out to someone from the hallway. The radiator rattles on the other side of the room, and for the next 20 minutes, Uruha does his best to focus on Aoi's slow breathing beside him and not the invisible spiders crawling across his fever-stricken skin.  

* * *

 

Fuck. Shit. Both. In no particular order.

Stumbling backstage, Uruha tugs the top portion of his leather ensemble off, skin prickling with a need for something Uruha can't quite grasp. He tosses it quickly on the couch, his knees nearly giving out beneath him as he sits, head in his hands and breath stuttering. Everything burns and he feels dizzy with fever, heart pounding erratically in his chest.

Fuck. 

What's wrong with him?

Everything's been going so well. 

And then he misstepped and his heart hasn't stopped racing since. He didn't fall, Ruki had caught him just barely, hand on the exposed portion of his lower back, but the panic the sub felt as the platform wobbled beneath his feet sent his heart into overdrive, and then the light touch against his touch-starved skin sent him over the edge. The previously light ache in his chest was throbbing by the end of the song and only getting worse with each staggering breath Uruha gasped in, the AC doing nothing to cool his sweat slick skin, and as the fans roared in his ears and the bass pounded in his skull, Uruha told himself he was going to die.

It's truly a miracle, he thinks later, as he collapses onto the green room couch, body screaming and muscles crying in protest, that he didn't pass out on stage. Or worse. 

The sub nearly jumps out of his skin a moment later when a hand touches his shoulder, sending spikes of pleasure pain down his spine. Even the smallest touch sends his mind back into overdrive, and his breathing resumes its panicked pace, his vision blurring once more. Uruha snaps, slapping the hand away. 

"Fuck! Don't touch me!" He gasps, eyes squeezed shut. 

"Shit, Uruha, what's going on?" A voice asks from his left, and the guitarist squeezes his eyes shut tighter, the heels of his palms digging into his eye sockets to alleviate his rapidly growing headache. The sub shivers pathetically in his seat, the staff creating a circle around the couch as everyone strains the figure out what's going on. 

Uruha doesn't notice the concerned questions, or the manager's cry for someone to get him water, or his band members gently calling his name. All he notices is that the slight discomfort he was feeling before the live had increased tenfold. His skin burns and his heart is beating so fast and so painfully in his chest he thinks he might go into cardiac arrest. There's a buzzing in his ear and he can faintly hear what sounds like whimpering before he realizes those sounds are coming from him. 

He tries to stop, tries to relax his muscles, tries to focus on Ruki's voice beside his ear, but he just can't. Agony rips through his chest and he struggles to hold back tears and breathe at the same time. 

Fuck this is humiliating. 

"Guys give him space, he's having a panic episode-" Aoi's voice. 

"Give him space? We have to go on stage in fucking 18 minutes!" Kai's voice this time. Fuck. Uruha forgot about the encore. 

"Yeah well yelling at him isn't going to fucking solve anything!" he can't breathe, his chest is getting tighter, fuck, fuck, why can't he just calm the fuck down!?

"Then do something mr. therapist because he can't go on stage like this and we can't-" 

"Shut the fuck up you guys, you're making it worse!" Reita's voice this time, quiet and sturdy, but Uruha knows his best friend well enough to distinguish the hint of panic. A moment later, Uruha feels two hands on his wrist, gently pulling his hands away from his face. He whimpers, heat scorching through his wrists, and tries to pull away, struggling vehemently, but the hands don't let him go, pulling until Uruha's hands are clenched between his knees and he sits hunched over, shivering pathetically. "Open your eyes Uru," comes Reita's voice, deep and soothing. The sub in Uruha perks immediately, but panic overrides his senses and he tries to pull away again.

"Let go," he moans weakly, a sob escaping his throat alongside his plea. "It hurts-" 

Reita's hands loosen but don't let go. "I'm going to let go," Reita says softly. "But I need you to keep your hands there and I need you to open your eyes. Can you promise that?"

Uruha can only shake his head. Everything hurts too much. Opening his eyes means facing the bright light, the overwhelming swirl of people in the green room, the concerned faces of his friends. 

"Open your eyes Uru." The hands tighten on his wrists again and he lets out another sob. "Ko, open your eyes. Please. I need to see you, I need to see if you're okay. Please, please Kouyou, open your eyes for me." The dom's voice has taken on a pleading tone, and Uruha so desperately wants to do as he asked, but he just can't. "You're a dom, just fucking command him," A voice hisses impatiently. 

"I'm not going to take advantage of him like that-" 

"We have 17 fucking minutes fucking do it or I will!" 

Uruha sobs again as the hands tighten and the voices grow louder. 

Fuck! Why can't he just get a hold of himself?! He's so fucking useless-

"Uruha, buddy, I'm gonna let go now, okay? I'm gonna let go, but you have to open your eyes." There it is. The command. 

The new tone in Reita's voice has an immediate effect on the sub. Uruha's eyes snap open against his will, wide and watery with pain. He and Reita lock gazes, eyes searching each other's. Reita's swirl with worry and Uruha feels his stomach lurch, guilt pooling in his chest. 

"That's it," Reita says softly, nodding and gently letting go of his wrists. "Breathe for me, Uru. You're doing so well." To Uruha's surprise, his hands stay locked between his knees, the tension in his shoulders lessening. "Can you do that? Can you breathe? Slowly? Do it, okay? Count and breathe slowly," the dom commands again, and Uruha tries his best to comply. Reita continues to speak slowly and softly, his voice low and firm. The sub's breaths remain panicky, short, but he can't deny the warmth and fuzziness that's starting to fill his mind as he focuses on Reita's gentle commands. 

Within just a few minutes, the pain has softened to the mere memory of an ache in his heart, and Uruha can feel himself sinking into a hazy state. He's vaguely aware of what's happening, the signs of subspace flashing through his mind, but he finds he doesn't have the energy or willpower to refuse it. He's not quite there yet, but he's on the cusp, and it feels  _so damn good._

Uruha's lashes flutter and he lets out a soft sigh, not a drop of tension remaining in his posture. He's boneless- or well, not really, because that's not physically possible, and his spine is definitely still holding up his head right now, but damn if it doesn't feel like it. 

Then he feels a tear stream down his cheek, and just like that, the warmth is gone, panic rising in his chest once again. 

Why is he crying again? Reita wants him to calm down, he wants him to stop crying, so why can't he just stop? He can't even listen to a dom's commands properly! 

Fuck, he's so fucking messed up. 

He reaches up to wipe away the tear, a hiccuped sob catching in his throat, but Reita stops him, gently pushing his hand away. 

"Shhh," he soothes softly, reaching up and wiping the tear away himself. Uruha briefly registers the tremor in Reita's hand, the nerves in his voice, but then Reita is cupping his cheek and whispering, "You're doing such a good job." 

His heart stops. 

_Good._

There's that word again.

_Good._

That heart wrenching, beautiful, savior of a word. 

And just like that, Uruha's under. 

He melts against Reita's hand, eyes fluttering shut as a feeling of warmth and peace sweeps over him. He's okay. He's safe here. Everything is going to be okay. Things hurt, but Reita will protect him. He's going to be okay. He's not a perfect sub, but if Reita's willing to drop him, then he's not unsalvageable, right? He can get better. He will be better. He'll do better for Reita.

* * *

 

"Holy crap, Rei. What did you do?" 

Reita turns his gaze to Ruki beside him, eyes wide in obvious panic. He just sent Uruha into subspace.

Fuck him.

"I- I don't know what happened Ruki, I was just trying to calm him down and then he just kind of dropped-" Uruha hums happily, completely oblivious as he stares at Reita, eyes glazed over. Reita gapes, at a loss for what to do. 

Ruki kneels by Reita's side, looking over Uruha, eyes wide. "Shit man, he's real deep. We have to go on stage in like fifteen minutes." 

"What do I do?" Reita's heart rate is rising, his hands starting to shake. He doesn't know what to do in this situation. He doesn't know what to do in any situation with a sub. Shit, why had he tried to help? He just made things worse. 

Uruha seems to pick up on Reita's panic, his face scrunching up in discomfort and his happy humming becoming strangled. His breathing picks up as well and he reaches for Reita, seemingly trying to comfort the dom in return. 

Reita's eyes widen and he quickly pulls Uruha close, trying to appear calmer so he won't upset the sub. Uruha instantly responds, curling against his shoulder and breathing in deeply. 

"Fuck Rei, you've got to pull him out of it." 

Reita looks up, eyes wide. "Pull him out of the drop? Isn't that... like the opposite of what I should do?" he asks hesitantly. 

Reita's heard stories of subs who were pulled out of drops too soon or too harshly. It's not supposed to be harmful, but can be if a sub's not in the right state of mind.

And Uruha definitely isn't.

"I don't know what else to do, we have to go back on stage. He definitely can't go back on like this." 

"Ruki's right, Rei. You have to pull him out of it," Kai cuts in. Reita looks up, hoping Aoi will give his input, but the elder is nowhere to be found. The blonde turns his gaze back to Uruha. The brunette's now nuzzling his chest, eyes shut in bliss. If Reita wasn't so mortified by his own actions, he might be blushing. 

"I can't just-" he bites his lip. "I can't just pull him out of it." Kai raises an eyebrow as Uruha nuzzles deeper into Reita's embrace, hands no longer shaking and now fisted in Reita's shirt. 

"Did you hear anything we just said? You have to, we don't have another option. Do it Reita," Kai says firmly. The dom inside Reita bristles, his stomach lurching uncomfortably at the obvious command in Kai's voice. He opens his mouth to put Kai in his place, but as Uruha presses his face to Reita's neck, the blonde sighs instead, knowing Kai is right. 

"Can you guys give us a moment alone then?" he asks quietly, looking at the floor. If he looks at Kai, he knows he's probably going to punch the other dom. 

"We'll be right outside, Reita," Ruki says softly, a hand squeezing Reita's shoulder in support before he grabs Kai's hand and walks out. The door clicks shut behind them and Reita shifts his gaze to the sub in his arms. 

The brunette has scooted so close to Reita by then that he's nearly in the other's lap, taking deep, slow breaths as if he's drunk on the feeling of being so completely free. Reita can't restrain himself from reaching up and brushing the hair out of his face, and the action causes Uruha to whimper a little, pressing further into his touch, cheeks flushed and expression utterly relaxed. At the sight, Reita's eyes widen and and his chest get's tight. Uruha's absolutely beautiful like this. 

"Uruha." Reita's voice comes out soft and a little breathless. He swallows to clear his throat, flushing even though there's no one to witness it. "Uruha, can you come up?" 

Uruha makes another whimpering sound, nuzzling further into Reita's chest in obvious protest.

Reita's chest clenches tighter and a feeling of guilt settles in his gut. It's not fair to Uruha to do this. 

"Kouyou. Please come up, for me," he tries again, gently tipping Uruha's chin up to look at him. Uruha's eyes blink open after a moment, glassy and unfocused, confusion clear on his face and a pout on his lips. The guilt in Reita's stomach grows heavier. He meets Uruha's gaze, brushing the hair out of his face again. "Kouyou, I know it feels good but you need to come out of the drop. Can you do that for me?" At the words Uruha's face scrunches up in discomfort and a hand comes up to clutch at Reita's wrist. 

"Don't want to," he murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut again. Reita shakes his head, biting his lip. He's losing Uruha again, and running out of time. He takes a deep breath and tries again.

 "Kouyou," he says softly, voice deep and commanding. "Come out of the drop." An evident shudder works its way through Uruha's body, ending with a soft sob from between his lips. Reita's heart twists in his chest and he struggles to keep his composure. "Come back to me, now Kouyou. Can you do that?" The brunette shakes his head, breath speeding up again. 

Shit he's making it worse, sending Uruha back into a panic. The dom racks his brain for anything that will calm Uruha down. He can't send him back into subspace, but he also can't risk sending him into another panic attack. Fuck, why did he ask Kai to leave him alone? Reita doesn't know the first thing about taking care of a sub, he's going to destroy Uruha. Shit shit-

Okay. He has to calm down. Freaking out isn't going to fix anything. He's overthinking things again, and the only way he's going to solve anything is if he just takes a deep breath and lets his instincts take over. 

Reita lets his gaze sweep over Uruha's face, forcing his heart to slow, his breath to relax, his mind to go on autopilot. He reaches deep and lets his instincts take over, expression near scrutinizing and calculating. He can do this. Uruha needs him to.

* * *

 

"Kouyou, calm down and come out of the drop. Can you do that for me? Hmm? Can you be a good boy and come up for me?" Reita's voice fills Uruha's ears again, gentle fingers stroking his cheeks. Uruha's unfocused gaze slides lazily over Reita's face, his mouth open and panting. He ponders over the words for a hot second, brain over-analyzing every word that came out of the blonde's mouth. Why does Reita want him to come out of the drop? Is he displeased? Has Uruha upset the dom again?

"Please Ko, can you come up?"

He doesn't want to come up. It feels good in his headspace, everything's nice and fuzzy and warm. He doesn't want to wake up and disappoint the dom. 

"Be a good boy a come up for me." 

But Reita's calling him a good boy. It doesn't make any sense. If he's a good boy, why does Reita want him to come up? Uruha searches Reita's face again, gaze a little less unfocused. Maybe the dom's kidding. If he's going to be a good boy, it makes more sense to stay in subspace. The dom's messing with him. 

Well that's mean.

But no matter how hard Uruha searches (which is honestly not that hard), he can't find a single sign that Reita's kidding. A whimper accidentally escapes his throat. His fuzzy mind can't seem to put the pieces together. It doesn't make sense! 

It's safer to stay in subspace. 

But as Reita adjusts them so that their eyes meet again, and gives a soft, "Please?" Uruha feels his resolve crumble. 

God, he just wants to be good.

"Are you going to come up for me?" Reita coaxes again, his expression gentle. Uruha nods, face contorting into one of grief. A sob rises in his throat. This time, when he leans forward to press his face to Reita's shoulder, the dom lets him, arms coming around to hold him gently. "Thank you Ko. Good boy. Come on up." 

With a pang in his chest, Uruha lets go of the headspace, the iron grip of his conscious on the fuzzy feeling loosening until he feels it begin to drift away and out of reach. The sound of Reita's heartbeat fades as the rest of the world comes back to him. He suddenly becomes aware of where they are, still in the green room backstage, still at the live, with attendants and managers and tech crews bustling about just outside the door. His heart grows heavier, guilt settling alongside the grief in his chest.

What perfect timing, Uruha. Way to fuck things up, once again. 

Once his senses return, the sub becomes aware of the way his body is trembling with sobs, tears pouring from his eyes, the gentle rocking of his body and Reita's. There's no stopping it. The grief pulls at his heart, tearing the sobs from his throat and there's was nothing to do but let it out. 

"Shh, I know," Reita whispers, lips close to Uruha's ear, and the softness of it all only wrenches another sob out of the sub. "I'm so sorry Uruha. I'm so so sorry." 

But the gentle apologies only make him feel worse. Reita shouldn't be the one apologizing, the one comforting him. It's his fault, his stupid body's fault for going into the drop even though Reita didn't tell him to, at the worst possible time. Reita shouldn't be sorry,  _he_ should be sorry. 

But in the moment, it's difficult to feel anything other than the all-consuming grief and self hate. So Uruha doesn't fight Reita and lets him hold him, whispering soft words from the heart, gentle and reassuring. 

 

Five minutes later, when the makeup artists and wardrobe attendants and managers file back into the room to get Uruha ready, the brunette reluctantly wipes the remaining tears from his cheeks and sits in his chair, gaze downcast and empty. He avoids the artists' gazes, cheeks red from the tears and embarrassment of being so weak. Reita hovers by his shoulder and Uruha does his best to appear alive for the dom, but it's difficult. 

He really wants to do anything but go back on stage at this point. His face feels bloated and clammy, eyes puffy and red and airways clogged with snot and tears, and he still hasn't stopped trembling. His fingers curl around the armrest of his chair to ground him, and he tries to focus on keeping his breathing slow and calming as the makeup artists begin to work, doing their best to salvage the mess that is his face.

He doesn't want to face the fans, not like this. They deserve better.

But he has to. It's only an encore, only fifteen minutes. All he has to do is make it through without messing up, and then he can go home and get in the bath and wallow in his sorrows. 

"Reita," comes a voice from the door. Uruha spots Aoi and Kai, the leader waving Reita over urgently. Aoi meets his gaze, eyes soft. "Get your encore clothes on, you and I are going to go out first to give the others a little more time," Kai hums.

By others, Uruha knows Kai means him.

Reita hesitates, catching Uruha's eyes in the mirror. "I... should stay with Uruha."

The sub's cheeks heat up and his stomach lurches. He knows Reita is just trying to be a good dom, but it's just making him feel like more of a burden, more of an embarrassment.

But at the same time, Uruha knows the moment the dom leaves his side, he's going to be sick. 

"I'll stay with him," Aoi hums, as if he can sense Uruha's internal war. There's a few moments of contemplation from Reita, and Uruha closes his eyes so they can fix his eyeshadow. 

"Come on Reita," Kai calls again, and then the sub hears soft footsteps before the door shuts with a click. The silence resumes but Uruha doesn't miss the gentle hand on his shoulder, a brief but calming assurance of Aoi's presence.

"Thank you," Uruha murmurs. Aoi hums in response.

* * *

 

Another five minutes later, and Aoi grasps Uruha's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze before he gallops on stage. Uruha follows, smile wide but heart aching. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed

 

 "What the hell was that?" Kai crosses his arms over his chest and looks at everyone at once, speaking to no one in particular, but Uruha knows the words are directed at him. The sub hangs his head, teeth worrying at his bottom lip as silence fills the room. Uruha struggles to swallow a lump in his throat. 

He's really not in the mood to be scolded (then again, is he ever?). Uruha already feels awful. The overwhelming panic he felt earlier has faded but a sickness has replaced it, churning deep in his gut and threatening to cause him to projectile vomit. Shame sits heavy in his chest and he really doesn't want to have to face a room full of disappointed doms. The sub inside him whimpers with embarrassment and self-hate, horrified that he's upset so many doms, and it only serves to anger him more, irritated at the submissive instincts that cloud his brain. He really doesn't want to sit here and get yelled at by Kai. Anything but that. Preferably getting home and having a nice long bath and possibly even drowning himself in it.

He hopes for a moment that someone else will speak up, but Kai's too quick. "Uruha."

"I'm sorry." The words come out louder than he intends but the others still lean in, straining to hear. "I didn't mean for it to happen." 

"Yeah no shit," Kai scoffs, anger clear in his voice. Uruha flinches. "I'm not asking if you meant to do it, I'm asking what happened."

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Uruha spares a glance up and regrets it. Kai's not the only one angry. Ruki taps his pristinely painted nails on the table, irritated gaze boring into Uruha. Aoi stands against the wall, expression distant, refusing to meet Uruha's pleading gaze. Only Reita gives him a sympathetic look, expression wracked with worry and guilt. Uruha feels his stomach churn.

"I mean I don't know what happened," he says quietly, looking down once more. And it's the truth. Never before has he felt such a panic, save maybe the day Kenta died. Sure, he gets nervous every once in a while, gets stressed before a big show or before meeting new people. But never this. Never his hopeless, soul-crushing, unbearable anxiety, threatening to bring tears to his eyes and suck the oxygen from his lungs. 

"How can you not fucking know what happened? Something must have-" 

"Hey, give him a break, Kai. He's sorry," Reita speaks up, voice tired. Kai bristles. Uruha tries to ignore the flare of pleasure that rises in his chest at the thought of a dom sticking up for him.

"Give him a break? He can't let this happen again. You hear me, Uruha? You can't let this happen again." Kai's voice rises in volume and Uruha tenses. The pleasure flees. "You promised us that this sub shit wouldn't get in the way of the group."

" _Sub shit_?" Uruha's head shoots up, eyes wide with hurt. Now the opposite of pleasure swirls in his chest. Sub shit? He nearly scoffs at the phrase. As if being a sub is somehow a disadvantage, and they've all just been waiting for his  _sub shit_ to kick in and destroy them all. Kai ignores him.

"You said you could handle taking off the collar. If you can't-"

"I can," Uruha protests. Kai's tone grows more demanding, and Uruha's stomach clenches. 

"Evidently you can't. If you can't handle taking it off, then put it back on or something, just get back on track. If you fuck things up for the rest of us with this-" 

"I won't!" Uruha suddenly feels like he's either going to puke or snap, or both, and he's not sure which is going to come first. His insides coil unpleasantly as Kai,  _a dom_   _he trusted,_  begins to speak with more and more command, and bile rises in his throat. 

"Then get your shit together. That was a really fucking close call there today, and you're lucky that a dom was there to save your ass. Get your shit together Uruha-" 

"I get it. Fuck off!" Uruha's voice comes out angry, trembling. He clenches his hands in his lap, eyes shut, feeling hurt and exhaustion and anger join the bile. Kai stops in his tracks.

"Excuse me?" 

Uruha stands. Exhaustion wracks his body, and he really hopes no one has picked up on his dizzy sway from standing too fast. His eyes snap open, and he hopes they look cold and hard, and not pitiful, like he feels. "I said, I get it. Now fuck off. You're not my fucking dom!" The room is silent for a moment as Uruha waits for Kai to fight back, or Reita to step in. Something in his gut vies for a dom to stand up for him again. But no one does, and in that moment Uruha feels his anger come crashing down.

No one's going to come to his defense. He's alone. 

Tears prick at the corners of his eyes and the exhaustion seeps back into his bones. Who is he kidding? Of course no one is going to come to his rescue. He's a fucking mess. The sub closes his eyes against the tears and pinches the bridge of his nose, a huff of cynical laughter escaping his throat. "Fuck this," he mumbles, more for himself than anyone else. The room sways and he forces an embarrassed sob down his throat before it can escape. Before he can start to cry and embarrass himself further, Uruha grabs his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and turning to walk out of the room. 

"Uruha-" Aoi's voice comes, soft and worried, but it's little too late and Uruha ignores the dom, the door swinging shut behind him. 

The minute he's out of earshot, Uruha runs to the nearest bathroom and throws up his dinner. 

 

* * *

 

 

The day after Kenta's funeral, Uruha's sisters had stayed the night at his house. Maaya, a dom, had cleaned the house and cooked dinner. Asako, a sub, had held Uruha on the couch as the two of them watched reality tv. It wasn't a show Uruha would ever have watched for fun, and neither he nor Asako had been able to concentrate, but it was the thought that counted, and Uruha had treasured every minute of it. 

That night, he had laid curled up between them, the two pillars of his childhood holding him up, keeping him going. Unable to sleep, Uruha had stared at the ceiling, body aching and dehydrated after crying all day. The pang that had sat in his chest for nearly three weeks was gone now, buried with his dom. It would return soon, he knew. Until then, he should sleep, he told himself. But he couldn't, even with Maaya's soothing fingers combing through his hair and Asako's cold toes pressing against his calf. Emptiness sat like a stone in his stomach, and for the thousandth time that day, Uruha desperately wished for the blissful numbness of subdrop. He vied for the intoxicating scent of Kenta, of musk and tobacco and pine, but it had been drowned out by cleaners and salt days ago and all Uruha had left of it was the bottle of cologne tucked in the top drawer of his dresser. And that wasn't even close to the real thing. That night, surrounded by the scent of his childhood and the sweet summer air, Uruha had never felt so loved and yet so alone.

The next morning, Uruha broke. The tears had come, quiet and pitiful, and then the shaking had come, and finally the begging. He just wanted to go under. It had been so  _fucking_ long since he had felt anything but pain, since he had sat on his knees by Kenta's feet and let all the tension and hurt seep out of his body in time with Kenta's gentle fingers in his hair. So long since he had surrendered control, let his mind bask in Kenta's love and affection instead of worrying over work and family. So long since he had been under, and he was ready to just drop.

So  _fucking_ ready. 

Maaya had been hesitant about it. It wasn't rare for family members to drop one another– Uruha's mother had dropped him and Asako for the first 17 years of their lives– but it had been so long since anyone but Kenta had dropped him, and so long since Maaya had dropped a sub. There were a lot of things that could have gone wrong. 

But maybe it was the shaking or the begging or the hopelessness in his eyes that changed Maaya's mind, because ten minutes later, under the careful watch of Asako, Uruha was curled up on the couch, head in Maaya's lap, eyes closed and lips curled in bliss.

Later, Asako would show Uruha how to drop himself, how to use Kenta's cologne and voicemails to lull his brain into a false sense of security and calm the noise so he could have a moment of reprieve, even if it was just five minutes in the green room after an intense show. 

And three days later, when she and Maaya packed their bags and left for Kanagawa, she left Uruha with a few words of warning. 

_"Be careful. You're vulnerable. Dropping yourself will keep the need away, but it will leave you exposed. And in your worst moments, a dom won't be able to resist the urge to drop you, even if it is someone that is trying to protect you. You have to protect yourself._

_"Never let anyone drop you without permission."_

 

* * *

 

Reita watches, eyes wide as the door swings shut behind Uruha. A cocktail of emotions fill his chest. He tries to focus on the good ones- smugness at the look of shock on Kai's face, pride at the way Uruha had stood up to Kai, and a hint of warmth. The sub is getting stronger every day, despite what everyone thinks. Reita knows he probably should have done more than just sit in his seat like an idiot, but even so, Uruha hadn't really needed him. He handled himself well. 

Reita tries to keep those thoughts at the forefront of his brain, tries to push the shame from earlier away. Tries to remember that Uruha is strong and not as submissive as society makes him out to be, tries to forget what he had done to the sub only an hour earlier. 

The encore went well, despite Kai's anger. Uruha had seemed shaken, but it was nothing the crowd didn't miss. He smiled when he was supposed to, nodding his head to the music and though he didn't move around much, it was forgivable. He hadn't messed up any of the notes.

Reita, on the other hand, wasn't been so lucky. But in his defense, it was difficult to think about the notes and the frets and the licks when all he could think of was how much of an idiot he was for putting Uruha under when he was most vulnerable. 

Uruha's strong. (Reita's disgusting). 

"Come on, Kai. That was unnecessary." Aoi's voice shakes Reita out of his thoughts. 

"Unnecessary? Aoi, he could have ruined the live," Kai argues, but the harshness that he directed towards Uruha has petered out in the wake of the sub's sudden exit. 

"It's not like he meant to," Aoi crosses his arms, looking more exhausted than angry. Reita watches the two for a moment, weighing his options. Two doms arguing is bad enough, and adding a third to the mix is recipe for disaster, but he itches to stand and defend Uruha's honor, especially now that the sub isn't here to defend it himself. At the same time, it really isn't his place to be speaking for the sub, and after the shit he pulled earlier, it's probably flat out disrespectful to jump in. (His inner dom disagrees). 

"Kai's right." Heads snap in the singer's direction. "He's going through a tough time, we understand that. But it's not fair to jeopardize everything we've worked for." 

"Seriously?" Reita can't stop himself (not that he tries). "You're siding with Kai on this? You of all people-" 

"Me of all people?" Irritation crosses Ruki's features and he raises his eyebrow. 

"Yeah! I mean we're doms, we're kind of dumb about this shit, no offense," Reita adds quickly, glancing at the other two. "But you of all people have got to have an inkling of sympathy." 

"Why? Because I'm a switch?" Ruki's voice takes on a dangerous tone. Reita should back down (he doesn't). 

"Yes!" 

"That's irrelevant! If Uruha's endangering everything that I care about then I have a right to be upset about it-"

Reita snaps. "He's not going to endanger the band if he has one nervous breakdown during a show! What the fuck Ruki!? Do you seriously care about the fucking band more than Uruha!? That's fucking heartless-" There's a growl to his left as Kai steps in front of Ruki, protective instincts kicking in, but Ruki pushes Kai aside, eyes blazing. 

"Fuck you Reita!" 

"Hey!" Aoi interrupts. Reita feels Aoi's hand on his chest, pushing him away from Kai, but he doesn't move his gaze from Ruki, dom tunnel vision beginning to set in. "Sit the fuck down. All of you." 

Kai glares at Aoi. "You're not the leader of-"

"I said, sit down." 

A muscle in Kai's jaw clenches but he gives in, sitting beside Ruki. It takes Reita a minute to remember that applies to him as well before he steps back to sit down. The red clears from his vision. Aoi turns to him, expression firm. 

"Reita. Calm down-" 

Reita bristles with poorly contained rage. "You're taking their side-?" Fury brews in his belly, and he imagines he looks pretty stupid with his mouth open in angry bewilderment. Is he the only one left with any sense of empathy? Aoi huffs. 

"No. I agree with you Reita, this isn't Uruha's fault. But everyone's a little stressed right now so I need you to chill the _fuck_ out because yelling about this isn't going to make anything better." Reita can hear the strained tone in Aoi's voice and tries to relax a bit, cowed by his words. He can't help but glare at Ruki from across the room, the dom in his chest rearing it's head at the thought of anyone making Uruha feel worse than he already does, but he tries, for Aoi's sake, to keep his cool. Or what's left of it. 

Aoi rounds on Kai next. "Kai, Ruki. Shut the fuck up." Eyes widen at his bluntness, but Aoi ignores them, continuing on. "Reita's right, Uruha's not going to ruin the entire band by having one panic attack at a concert, and yelling at him isn't going to prevent it from happening again. You keep yelling at him for not knowing what happened but-" Kai opens his mouth to protest, but the words die on his tongue as Aoi holds up a stern finger. " _Let me talk_ \- You keep on yelling at him for not knowing what happened but do _you_ know? Because if not, then you need to chill the fuck out." Kai's eyebrows furrow in irritation.

"Do you?" he shoots back. It sounds more childish than scathing. Aoi straightens, arms crossed over his chest as his expression cools.

"As a matter of fact, I do." Reita feels a surge of gratitude and warmth fill his chest. "His body is reacting to no longer having a dom. Mentally, he accepted it months ago. Assuming that he's been wearing the collar through his drops and thinking of Kenta, his body has not physically realized that his dom is gone. Now he's trying to move past it, and he's having trouble because  _some people are being assholes and making him feel like everything's his fault."_

Ruki squirms in his chair, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. Kai's mouth stays conveniently shut. Reita tries not to feel too smug.

His victory doesn't last long. 

 "And you!" 

Reita's stomach jumps and his eyes widen as Aoi turns on him. Shit.

"What?" He's sure he looks like a deer caught in headlights but Aoi doesn't offer him any mercy.

"Putting him into fucking sub drop? Are you stupid? If I didn't know you better, I would say you were taking advantage of him," He huffs. His voice is more irritated than venomous, as it was with Kai. Reita's first instinct is to fight back.

"I was just trying to-" 

"I don't care what you were trying to do! You still did it and you shouldn't have." Aoi's angry gaze bores into him and suddenly he can't help but feel like a scolded puppy. His cheeks flush. 

"I didn't mean to," he says meekly. Aoi rolls his eyes. 

"Of course you didn't. Don't do it again, I shouldn't have to lecture you on consent laws." 

Reita's heart drops into his stomach and he swallows thickly, gaze glued to the floor. Aoi's right, he doesn't need to be reminded. 

"It won't happen again. I'm sorry." The words leave his mouth before he gives them permission, and Aoi scoffs.

"I'm not the one that you should be apologizing to." Reita flinches. "Go home guys, get some rest. Manager gave us the week off anyways, take the time to _reflect_ a bit." The word is spat more than spoken, and with that Aoi grabs his bag and walks out, much in the same fashion Uruha did. 

There's a moment of tense silence as the door swings shut behind him. Reita knows he should say something, it's always bad to leave an argument without offering some sort of reconciliatory word, but his stomach squirms with guilt and there's an odd, thick lump in his throat, and he knows all attempts at reconciling are doomed anyways. Might as well get out of there while he can. So without sparing the others so much as a glance, Reita grabs his bag and leaves the couple to themselves. The hallways are silent as he makes his way through them, save the booming pound of his heartbeat, and when he breaks through the front doors, even the crisp Tokyo air feels suffocating. 

The drive back to his place is a blur. His fingers tap impatiently against the steering wheel, teeth worrying at his bottom lip. Part of him hopes that Uruha will be there when he gets home, but the more rational part of himself knows the sub won't be. 

He fucked up.

Badly. 

And he's not sure how he's going to fix it. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

It's at least a week before Uruha leaves his apartment, and it's only because he runs out of ice cream. The sub shuffles out of his apartment, hands stuffed in the pockets of the largest hoodie he could find, and honestly he has no idea whose hoodie it is because it's certainly not his, but it's warm and he can't find it in himself to care at the moment. His hair is pulled up into a messy bun on top of his head because he hadn't had the energy to wash it, and it's not sunny out but he's wearing sunglasses to hide the bags under his tired eyes. 

Sleeping hasn't really been a priority lately.

He knows Reita has tried to call him. They all have. And he knows Reita has come to his apartment at least twice to check if he's even still alive.

But Uruha can't face them. Not after what the sub had done.

Appearing strong had been easy in the moment. Standing up for himself, calling Kai out on his stupid sub stereotypes, piece of cake. Then. When he was running on the euphoria of his drop and the adrenaline of the stage and all the pent up rage and irritation he had brewing for himself. 

But now he's just feeling empty.

Empty and frustrated.

It's not a good feeling to lose control. Control is something that's taught to every sub from a young age, drilled into the minds of impressionable children who don't truly understand the weight of what's being said but take it in nonetheless, eager to please, eager to be the best. 

_ "It's important to never let yourself succumb to the pleasures of a drop, unless it's with your dom." _

_ "It's important to always seem poised and collected, unless it's in front of your dom." _

_ “It's important to never let on how much you might want or need a drop." _

_ "Don't be needy, it's unattractive." _

_ "Only sluts ask just anyone for a drop." _

_ "Only whores take drops from just anyone, anywhere." _

_ "Only uncivilized scum lose control." _

Fuck that. 

All it had taken was two words from a dom and Uruha had lost everything. How pathetic. His mother had taught him better than that. 

Reita had sent him a thousand texts, asking if he was okay, if he wanted anything, if the dom could do anything for him. Uruha hasn't replied to those either. How could he? There was no way the dom wasn’t upset with him. That much was clear after his absolute silence during the screaming match. The dom was probably asking if he was okay out of obligation. He wouldn’t be surprised if Reita was disgusted with him, with the ridiculous way he had collapsed all over him, tongue lolling out and eyes glazed (Uruha never remembers much from his drops, but if he had to guess, he would guess he hadn’t looked pretty). He had practically thrown himself at Reita, forced the dom’s hand, and it was nothing to be proud of. 

No. He couldn’t face Reita.

He couldn’t stand to see the disappointed, disgusted look in his oldest friend’s eyes. 

He’d rather become a hermit. 

He knows he looks like shit, he can see it in the cashier's eyes as she rings up his items, a bunch of junk food and a couple of healthy things because he knows Kenta would be rolling in his grave if Uruha didn't at least try to take care of himself. At the last second, he grabs a pack of marlboros, tossing it onto the belt before stuffing his hands back in his pocket. He's been clean but itching for a smoke for a while, and since he's on break and feeling shitty, he figures he might as well give in a little bit. What's the harm, really? He’s already fucked up everything else in his miserable life. What’s one more vice?

After paying, he grabs his bags, ambling lazily down the street. The pack sits heavy in his pocket, and he waits until he's on an emptier street before breaking a stick out, lighting it and taking a slow drag. The taste is bitter but familiar, and he feels the tension in his muscles let out with each inhale. 

It's a nice feeling.

Uruha relaxes against the telephone pole he had stopped by, shopping bags in one hand and cigarette in the other. The sun starts to set, though it's not very noticeable with the bright city lights. People bustle around him, faces impassive and unrecognizable, minding their own business. No one spares him a glance, except the little boy who stares at him as he waddles by, clutching onto his mother's hand. Uruha tries to spare the boy a smile, but he doubts it reaches his eyes. Nonetheless, the boy smiles back, eyes twinkling and innocent, and as the boy's mother tugs him down the street, Uruha tries to remember what it feels like to be so carefree and happy.

Down the street, there's the sudden sound of fighting, and Uruha looks up in time to catch a man being thrown out of what looks like a club, two men in black suits carrying him out by the armpits. The guy is growling and struggling, his speech slurred but obviously angry, and Uruha hurriedly averts his gaze, not wanting to be caught staring. He waits for a few moment as the scuffle continues, before there's a final curse spat and the guy's stumbling down the street in the opposite direction. Uruha spares another glance at the club.

The outside seems relatively small, squeezed between two massive shopping centers. Red velvet curtains can be seen in the glass windows, shielding the inside from any onlookers, and the doors aren't glass, like most city businesses. Instead they're solid and matte black, with slots at the top. A closer look at the sign above the door reveals it's not a club like Uruha first thought. 

It's a drop den.

Well that's a surprise. 

Drop dens aren't rare in the city, but ones that look this nice are. Dens are designed to be places where subs or doms can go and have a night with one of the opposite orientation. Subs in need of a drop pay to spend the night with a "professional" dom and vice versa, but often the workers are less than professional, handsy, and ridiculously over exaggerated. A lot of people only go to dens anymore to pick up potential one-night stands. Most of the drop dens Uruha has been in have been nothing more than seedy little bars with some poorly furnished rooms in the back. The nicer drop dens are really more like strip clubs and even those are overrun with people just looking for a good fuck, rather than a proper sub-dom relationship. In his opinion, they aren't worth the cost. 

Then again, they had increased in popularity since Uruha had moved to Tokyo, and he hasn't set foot in one in years, so he guesses it's not really his place to pretend like he knows much about them anymore. 

He’s about to walk away (the ice cream in his grocery bag has probably melted by now) when the door opens and someone walks out. The sub that emerges is dressed almost too elegantly for a drop den, expensive gems twinkling on the lobes of her ears, her silk dress obviously high quality. She's uncollared, a glittering necklace resting on her breast instead. But it's not just the clothes that catch Uruha's eyes as she walks down the street. It's her face.

She's positively glowing. 

It's obvious that she just got dropped, and whoever did it did a damn good job. 

His interest piques.

His gaze turns back to the drop den, doors swinging shut. There's the faint sound of music, but it doesn't sound like the trashy techno beats that one would hear at a typical club. It sounds slow, sultry, sexy, but still sophisticated.

The doors open again a moment later, and this time it's a couple of doms, dressed in crisp suits, rolex watches on their wrists. They don't look like typical den frequenters. They look clean, mature, powerful. Uruha feels his insides twist in desire. He ignores it, throwing his cigarette on the ground and snuffing it out with the toe of his shoe. He scoffs, turning away from the den.

Even if the den is better quality than the ones he frequented in his teens, it's obviously too expensive and classy for the likes of him. No use loitering any longer. 

Uruha turns away, stuffing his free hand back in the pocket of his hoodie. He keeps his gaze trained on the ground as he wanders back to his apartment. The sun is long gone by now, and the city nightlife is in full swing when he finally reaches his complex. 

By the time he's sitting on his couch, feet on the coffee table with another cigarette in one hand and his dinner in the other, all thoughts of the den have slipped away.

 

* * *

 

 

Unfortunately, they don't stay gone forever. The next morning, Uruha lies in bed with a frustrating case of morning wood and it's all because of that goddamn group of doms that had fucking waltzed out of the drop den, all chiseled jaws and broad shoulders, and Uruha knows he only feels this way because he hasn't gotten laid in a while but he  _ wants _ .

A drop den like that is too expensive for him. He's better off than most, better off than he had been in the past, that's true. Maybe if he was drunk enough, he could walk in and blow a little cash for a good night. But right now, when he's sober, he has to be realistic. And realistically, he could afford to pay for  _ maybe _ five minutes, nothing more, before he'd start to feel guilty. 

And he's not that desperate. (He kinda is, but it's too early to really admit that yet). 

So paying for a professional dom, off the table. 

He needs to stop thinking about it.

So instead, Uruha climbs out of bed and takes a cold shower, and goes on with his day.

He shuffles around the house, cleaning as he goes. He's trying his best to not just sit around on his ass like he's done the past three days, and the only way he can keep himself moving is by cleaning. So he cleans. He cooks himself lunch at noon, and settles down to eat and watch the news. At three his mother tests him, reminding him to wish Maaya's husband a happy birthday. He does so, and then goes back to cleaning. And it's working. He's distracted, he's moving, and he's not happy but he's content.. 

But by seven o clock, he's cleaned the entire apartment twice, and he's feeling restless again. It's not a pretty feeling and his skin itches and it's reminiscent of when he had a panic attack on stage four days ago. It's honestly freaking him out a little. He knows he should drop himself, but he's been having trouble doing it without Kenta's collar and he doesn't want to go down that route again. Not after working so hard to let go.

His sisters are home, hours away, and he's too embarrassed (and frankly stubborn) to call Reita or Aoi. 

That drop den is starting to sound more and more like a good idea every minute. He tries to remind himself of the money and the stigma and the crowd but he knows at this point that he's just making excuses. 

Going to a drop den isn't synonymous with paying for a professional dom. Uruha doubts those men he had seen leaving the den were paid employees. It's more likely they were patrons. And it's not rare for subs to go into drop dens, even high class ones like that, simply to pick up doms. 

He needs to stop making excuses. He's shaking and all over the place and if he's not going to man up and call Reita or Aoi, he's gotta do something.

And just like that, Uruha knows what he's doing tonight.

 

* * *

 

 

Four hours later, Uruha's sufficiently dressed up, tight jeans and a button up shirt that's unbuttoned just enough to show the glint of the silver cross he has sitting in the dip between his collarbones. His hair isn't styled the way it normally is (he may not get mobbed by fans on the streets but he still doesn't want to risk it), but it looks good enough. He looks good enough. He's not looking for anything serious, just a one night stand, so really, good enough is all he needs. 

As he walks in the direction of the den, Uruha tries to mentally prepare himself. It's not the first time since Kenta passed away that he's gone searching for a one night stand, but it is the first time he's gone searching for a drop. Casual sex is one thing, dropping is a whole other. Submitting to someone requires a whole new level of intimacy that Uruha isn't quite sure he's ready for. 

But he's desperate. Being ready isn't important anymore. 

Uruha can feel the low bass reverberate in his bones as he steps into the den. The sub moves out of the way of the door as it swings shut behind him and quickly heads to the bar, sitting at an empty stool and motioning for the bartender. After ordering, he settles at the bar with both elbows resting on the wood. His broad shoulders hunched over are a clear indication to not approach him – not yet. Not before he's had a drink. 

While he waits, Uruha takes a quick look around the den. It's a typical design for a den, black leather couches and chairs set up around coffee tables, a bar, and a dance floor in the center, with doors dotting the back wall where people can book private sessions or rent the room out. The den is full of people, elegantly dressed women and smartly dressed men, and Uruha can see instantly the unspoken dance that he has just become a part of, subs circled in groups with drinks in their hands, coy looks thrown over their shoulders as the doms prowl, seeking out the optimal partner. There's a big, rowdy, mixed group in one of the corners, dressed in expensive suits and sparkling gowns, and it's evident they've been here for a while by the way drinks cover the table and floor around them. The subs are draped over the doms, wandering hands dangerously close to areas not suitable for public, and if he looks close enough, Uruha suspects that white powder on the table isn't salt from the glass rims. He makes a note to avoid that area. 

Two minutes later, his drink comes and he downs it immediately. The sharp burn on his throat is oddly soothing, and he finds that now he can relax, shoulders dropping. Uruha orders another drink and coyly pulls his hair to one shoulder, showing off the back of his bare neck to any dom that might be looking. It's a clear invitation. Now he waits.

* * *

 

 

Twenty minutes later, Uruha's in one of the back rooms, straddling the lap of a man he just met. The dom's lips are on his and his hands are creeping up the back of Uruha's shirt, and Uruha's sure that if he tried hard enough, he could remember that the man's name is Kosuke, but he's not going to try because frankly he doesn't care. Kosuke had been nothing but polite and respectful of Uruha's boundaries until Uruha had subtly told him that he had none, at which point the handsome dom had asked him if he'd like to take things into the back room. Uruha had readily accepted. It hadn't taken long for him to shed the last of his reservations, whining eagerly into Kosuke's mouth as he presses their chests together. Kosuke is chuckling against his lips, kissing back enthusiastically, a talented tongue slipping into his mouth and dancing with his own. It's heaven. Uruha can't wait to get to the dropping. 

At the thought he hurriedly pulls away, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it onto the table behind him. In an instant, Kosuke is onto him, kissing the bare skin and nibbling gently. Uruha can feel an embarrassing moan bubbling in his throat but he's too tipsy to care as he lets it out, the sound ringing throughout the room. The dom groans in response, a deep growl that has Uruha's skin tingling. He whines softly, tugging at Kosuke's shirt. 

"Easy," Kosuke chuckles, parting from Uruha's chest to shed his own shirt, revealing a gloriously tanned chest with tattoos spanning his ribs. It's unbelievably hot. Uruha licks his lips in hunger, surging to reclaim the dom's mouth in a searing kiss as he presses their bodies together, hips grinding slowly. He's getting hard, and he knows Kosuke is too. Everything is going far too fast and Uruha loves it, revels in the dom's arms around him, in the sharpness of the dom's teeth against his bottom lip, in the firmness of each roll of his hips. 

"I want you to drop me," Uruha breathes, heart racing at the confession, and for a moment he fears Kosuke is going to pull away and leave him there but he only grins and pulls Uruha closer by the hips, kissing him harder. Uruha's stomach flips excitedly.

"I thought you'd never ask, baby," he growls against his lips before moving down to his neck, nipping and biting playfully. Momentarily, Uruha thinks to remind Kosuke not to leave marks above the collar, but before he can the dom is pulling away, smoothing his hands up Uruha's ribs. They're both breathing hard and Kosuke looks like he has to physically restrain himself from kissing Uruha. "How do you want to do this?" he asks softly, and Uruha knows he made the right choice when choosing him. He bites his bottom lip, thinking briefly before smirking and rolling his hips again. Kosuke hisses and Uruha leans close.

"Like this," he hums softly. He continues to grind their hips together as he reaches down, taking one of Kosuke's hands off his hips and to his chest, pushing it up slowly until it's wrapped gently around his neck. He meets the dom's gaze, eyes hooded, nodding slowly in consent. Something in Kosuke's eyes change and the sub shudders eagerly as the dom's voice grows deeper and firmer, giving completely into his dominant nature. The hand around Uruha's neck begins applying a light pressure, not enough to cut off Uruha's air, but enough to mimic the distinct feeling of a collar, and Kosuke moves his hips against Uruha's. 

"Fuck," Kosuke growls. "You're so fucking beautiful. Such a good little sub." Uruha whines in pleasure, closing his eyes and letting the dom's voice fill his ears. Pleasure is building in his belly, and he feels a smile come over his lips . He made the right decision coming out tonight. "That's it, submit to me baby. Relax," Kosuke coos, nibbling lightly on his earlobe. "Just let go. I've got you."

Uruha can feel the fuzziness creeping in from the corners of his mind. It feels mind blowingly amazing. 

"What a good boy." 

Until it doesn't anymore. 

Nothing's changed. Kosuke's still purring in his ear, grinding against him, gently rubbing his neck. But the fuzziness is quickly retreating, and suddenly Uruha feels sick. It's not right. The voice in his ear isn’t low enough. The hands on his hips aren’t big enough, callused enough, the hair is too dark, the eyes are kind but not soft enough. This isn't right, he made a mistake. He needs to get out of here. Uruha's breathing begins to pick up, the smile dropping off his lips, and Kosuke must be able to sense the sub's panic because he immediately stops, removing his hand from Uruha's neck. 

"Kouyou? Are you okay?" he asks gently, rubbing his hip. "Do you need me to slow down? We can slow down if you want?" 

Kosuke's so sweet it makes Uruha want to cry. He just wanted to have a good time tonight. Why can't he even do this right? 

"Kouyou? Speak to me baby," Kosuke says again, and Uruha uses the last of his willpower to climb off Kosuke's lap, limbs shaking. 

"I-I-I'm sorry, I- I need to go." The words come out strangled, confusion and dizziness filling his mind.  _ Why? _ Why does he need to go? Why is he feeling like he needs to get away? What happened?

"What's wrong Kouyou? Is it something that I did-?" Kosuke asks, and Uruha quickly shakes his head. 

"No it's not you-" Uruha pulls on his shirt, hurriedly buttoning it up. "I-I'm sorry. It's not your fault." The next words surprise him just as much as Kosuke. "You're just not him." 

**Shit.**

**Fuck.**

Wasn't the purpose of this to get over Kenta? To give him a drop without having to use the collar?

And he can't even fucking do that right. 

Useless fucking sub. 

"I'm sorry," Kosuke is saying, standing and reaching his arms out, as if he wants to hold Uruha, to soothe him, but he doesn't know if he's allowed. Uruha doesn't know either; he's just as lost as Kosuke. "Let me at least drive you home," He says, but Uruha is shaking his head. 

"It's fine, I'm fine, I'm sorry, I just need to go, I'm sorry." He's stumbling over his words again but he doesn't care, he just needs to get out. He forces himself to give Kosuke a quick kiss on the cheek before he hurries out of the room and out of the den, the air suddenly stifling and claustrophobic. 

It's summer and Uruha's shivering as he walks down the street in a random direction, head bowed and arms crossed protectively across his chest. He goes over the night in his head, panicked mind trying desperately to point out  _ what went wrong. _

He's halfway to Reita's apartment when he realizes that it wasn’t Kenta that his sub was screaming for. 

 

* * *

 

 

Reita feels guilty. He knows Uruha’s avoiding him. It’s plain as day. And he knows he has no one to blame but himself. 

Aoi’s words from the live have been echoing in his head for days. 

_ “If I didn’t know you better, I would say you were taking advantage of him.”  _

The words eat at his insides. Aoi’s right. He had taken advantage of Uruha when he was vulnerable. He may not have done it on purpose, but he knows better than to use his dom voice on someone without their consent. Uruha had been panicking, and he had been panicking, but it was no excuse. 

He had done Uruha dirty.

And the worst part is, feeling bad about dropping him is not the only reason he’s got self hatred twisting in his gut. Aside from worrying about his friend, Reita’s been unable to get the thought of Uruha in the drop out of his head. His glazed expression, slightly parted lips, the light flush on his cheeks as he faded in and out of awareness – he had been absolutely breathtaking. And Reita can’t get the sight out of his thoughts. It’s there everytime he closes his eyes, and the desire that pools in his belly when he thinks about it only serves to make him want to punch himself in the face. 

So he feels guilty. 

And now the sub is avoiding him. 

In all honesty, he has every right to. Reita doesn’t blame him in the slightest. But he does worry about him. Reita knows Uruha isn’t responding to anyone else’s texts. He knows he’s not answering anyone else’s calls. Reita knows his best friend is still alive because their manager had visited him the day before per Reita’s request and had assured him that Uruha was fine, just exhausted, but the thought doesn’t settle his nerves. The idea of Uruha locking himself away, steeping in his anger or afraid out of his mind only serves to make Reita more anxious. He knows how Uruha gets. He knows how much worse this could get. 

Reita doesn’t know what to do.

After the first week and the third visit to Uruha’s apartment pass with no answer, Reita goes to the only person he can for advice. 

When Reita knocks on Aoi’s door, he’s not expecting the immediate response. His eyebrows shoot up as the door swings open not a second later, revealing Aoi in nothing but a thin robe and a pair of boxers, a wad of yen outstretched in his hand. Reita would laugh at the sight if he wasn’t so completely caught off guard. 

“...Oh. Reita.” Aoi looks just as surprised. “I thought you were the pizza man.” 

Reita quickly snaps himself out of it, shaking his head. “Sorry to disappoint. Can I come in? I need to talk to you.” Aoi gives him a once over, then checks over Reita’s shoulder, presumably for the pizza man, before sighing as if he expected this and stepping aside to let him in. Reita kicks off the shoes by the door and walks inside, his hands wringing nervously. 

“Is it the pizza?” A voice calls from the bedroom, and Reita recognizes it as Kazuki’s.

“No babe, it’s just Reita. I’ll call you when the pizza gets here,” Aoi calls back and Reita hides a smirk. 

“Babe?” he asks and Aoi fixes him with an unimpressed glare. 

“Don’t pretend to be surprised.” He walks into the kitchen and starts fixing himself coffee, offering a mug to Reita, who gladly accepts it. “I’m assuming you’re here to talk about Uruha?” Aoi drawls. Reita flushes. 

“He’s not picking up his phone or answering my texts.” 

“Gee, I wonder why.” Reita sighs.   
“I didn’t mean to drop him and you know that.” 

“I know Reita,” Aoi sighs, placing down his mug. “But me agreeing that you didn’t do it on purpose doesn’t change the fact that you dropped him without consent, and he’s probably very confused if not hurt right now.” Reita feels his heart drop into his stomach. He’s not hearing anything he doesn’t already know, but it still stings to hear the words from another dom’s lips. 

“I know,” he says quietly, looking down into his coffee. There’s a moment of silence as Aoi watches him from across the table before it’s broken by the sound of feet as Kazuki walks into the kitchen, wrapped in a thin robe as well. Reita breaks Aoi’s gaze all too happily, giving Kazuki a small smile in greeting and the sub nods back, going to make himself a drink. When Reita looks back at Aoi, the dom hasn’t moved his gaze at all. It’s become more gentle, but it’s still scrutinizing. Reita’s starting to feel uncomfortable when Aoi finally speaks. “Do you want to tell me the real reason you came today?” he asks softly and Reita bites his lip, the words on the tip of his tongue. It takes him a minute to get them out.

“How are you such a good dom?” 

Aoi doesn’t look surprised by the question, but Kazuki snorts into his drink. Aoi ignores him. “A good dom?” He prods. Reita flushes and looks back down at his coffee, shrugging. 

“At the live, you knew exactly what was happening. You knew that Uruha was having a panic attack, you knew how to get him to calm down, you knew how to make him feel better after I– you know–, and you even knew why he was acting like that. How did you do it?” Reita looks up at Aoi when he finishes and the dom sips his coffee, evidently trying to think of an answer. When he speaks, it’s with a question rather than an answer. 

“Have you ever had a sub, Reita? Like a long term, committed sub?” Reita shakes his head. It’s no surprise, and he knows it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Being a rock star and having healthy relationships don’t often go hand in hand. Aoi gives him a gentle smile. “Being a good dom isn’t something you’re born with. It’s not something I’ve always been.” 

“Don’t I know it,” Kazuki mumbles from behind them and Aoi rolls his eyes, reaching behind him to lightly pinch his boyfriend. Kazuki just grins and kisses the top of Aoi’s head. 

“Besides, there’s a difference between a good dom and an experienced dom. You’re a good dom, Reita. You have a good heart, you have good instincts. The way you pulled Uruha up from his drop, that was a good job. You’re just inexperienced, and that’s okay,” he hums. Reita bites his lip. 

“That should make me feel better, right?” he asks quietly, and Aoi chuckles. 

“I’m not saying it to make you feel better. I’m just telling you the truth.” Reita nods, the words running through his mind. 

“So what do I do about Uruha?” He asks softly. Aoi hums, evidently opening his mouth to speak but Kazuki beats him to it. 

“Give him space. When he’s ready, he’ll come to you. You guys are best friends. It’s going to be okay,” he says softly, and Reita’s not sure if it’s the words or Kazuki’s soothing sub voice, but Reita feels some of the knots in his stomach loosen at the reassurance. He nods slowly and finishes his coffee. 

“Thank you.” Reita meets Kazuki’s eyes and gives him a small, grateful smile. “Both of you.” Kazuki winks at him. 

“No problem at all. I’m going to go call the pizza man, see where the hell he is. Have a good day Reita,” the sub hums before waltzing out of the room. There’s a moment as Aoi watches his boyfriend go, a loving look in his eye, that Reita feels a little bit jealous, but he quickly squishes it down. It’s not their fault that they’re happy and he’s lonely and conflicted about everything in his life. Quickly he downs his coffee and stands. 

“Thanks Aoi. I guess I’ll see you soon,” he sighs, giving the man a quick bow. Aoi nods. 

“It’s no problem Reita. Please, try to relax. It’s vacation, after all.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed

Reita doesn't relax.

He really honestly, really does try.

When he gets home, he changes into his most comfortable clothes, makes himself some hot tea, and turns on the tv. He even gathers all the blankets in the house (even though it's summer) to raise the couch to the optimal comfort level.

He's ready to relax.

But ten minutes into the soccer game he had put on, there's a knock on the door. Bye bye relaxation. Reita steels himself to deal with whatever solicitor has decided to ambush him this summer night, but when he opens the door, it's not a solicitor that stands there.

Uruha has tear tracks down his cheeks, his hands are shaking, eyes wide, and Reita almost has a visceral reaction, both surprised out of his mind to see Uruha there, and suddenly overcome by a fierce need to scoop him up and carry him off.  He knows he's staring dumbly, eyes wide and mouth open as well, but he can't help it, his heart is racing and his stomach is flipping and his dom is growling at him to protect his poor shivering sub. His first thought is, "what the fuck is Uruha doing here?" and his second is "fuck he's here, things are going to be okay," and then he pauses to wonder what the fuck happened to make Uruha cry like that and who he has to beat up, but as Uruha lets out a hiccup and proceeds to look angry at himself for letting out a sound like that, Reita realizes he should let Uruha in and get him comfortable before he gets too ahead of himself.

"Hey Uru. Do you want to come in?" He asks softly, stepping aside. Relief fills Uruha's eyes but it's quickly overshadowed by nerves again as he slips past Reita into the apartment. He toes off his shoes quickly, padding inside, arms wrapped around himself protectively. He's dressed nicely, which surprises Reita, but his clothes are rumpled, as if he had put them on in a hurriedly and hadn't stopped to iron his shirt. When he realizes he's staring, Reita quickly looks away, shutting and locking the door.  "I was just about to eat dinner and watch the game, if you want to join me. Unless you want to talk?" Reita prods gently, trying to get a feel for what exactly Uruha is here for. He watches as Uruha bites his lip, evidently conflicted before he shakes his head.

"Dinner sounds good," he says softly and Reita just nods, slipping past him and into the kitchen. "I'll grab you a bowl. Make yourself comfortable," he hums. As he's grabbing Uruha a bowl of the microwave ramen he was having for dinner (sue him, he was feeling lazy), he watches out of the corner of his eyes as Uruha sits on the couch, pulling a blanket over his lap and curling up. He seems to relax more, which makes Reita happy, but he's still worried. Uruha's acting as if he's not sure what he's doing here. As if he's still upset with Reita.

Reita's not sure why Uruha's here, and that makes him a little bit nervous. But he's also glad.

Before the night is over, the dom promises himself, he's going to make it up to his best friend.

 

* * *

 

 

Uruha's not sure what he's doing here. He just spent a week avoiding Reita and now he's found himself in his apartment seeking refuge as if Reita didn't have every reason to hate him. Part of him feels so exhausted and conflicted and just small, and all he wants to do is curl up with his best friend like how they used to when they were young and were able to find safety and home in one another's arms, but the other part of him is fucking terrified.

When Reita opens the door and lets him in, he's so gentle that for a moment Uruha forgets that the dom is probably mad at him, and a sweet, tingly feeling fills his chest. It's only been a week since he last saw Reita, but he's suddenly struck with how much he misses him. He misses him like hell.

The next moment though, as Reita asks him if he wants to talk, the tingly feeling is gone, and Uruha can feel the anxiety rising in his gut once again. They can't talk. He's not sure if he's ready to face what happened at the live, talk about it in front of Reita. He's not ready to admit, out loud, that he lost control, that he's just as weak as all the textbooks say, that he couldn't handle being in the music industry because he's too vulnerable, just like everyone said fifteen years ago. He's not ready to admit to the one person that believed in him, that they were all right. Most of all, he's afraid that if they talk, it'll be the final straw in their friendship. Right now, they're hanging on a precarious edge, holding onto their friendship because the elephant in the room hasn't been addressed. But if they talk things out, it could drive an even bigger wedge between them. Uruha already misses Reita so much.

He can't let that happen.

So he shakes his head and asks for dinner.

Uruha feels a little bit better when he sits down on the couch and Reita leaves the room. He feels like he can take a moment to breathe, so he does, curling up in the blankets and listening to the white noise of the tv in the background. It's a familiar scene, and it helps his stomach settle, just a little bit.

When Reita comes back with the food, Uruha forces a soft smile on his face, taking the bowl. "Thanks Rei," he said softly. "Thank you for having me over," he adds quickly. He says the words with a tone of apology, hoping Reita isn't upset with him for barging in on his quiet night, but has to force himself not to wince when they come out too formal and stiff. He's talking to his lifelong best friend, for god's sake.

He misses the smile Reita gives him as the blonde sits beside him, but it's probably a good thing, as there's a hint of uneasiness in Reita's eyes that probably would have made Uruha feel worse. There's an awkward silence for a moment, and Uruha glues his eyes to the tv, trying to ignore the stifling tension. He shoves a clump of noodle in his mouth to give himself something to do and almost immediately burns his tongue, but he suffers through the pain, uncomfortably aware that Reita is watching him out of the corner of his eye. Uruha refuses to allow himself to blush or meet Reita's gaze, instead turning to the tv and focusing on the game.

They're both tense and all too aware of one another, and the game passes in uncomfortable silence before it's over and they're getting up to put their bowls in the sink. It almost breaks Uruha’s heart more, the way they’re so uncomfortably aware of one another. They’re best friends, they grew up together, they’ve seen each other naked, they’ve cried to each other, they’ve slept in the same bed for god’s sake, and all it took was one week to turn them into strangers. The awkwardness is back in full force, and they do everything they can to avoid brushing up against one another and the tension is so stifling that Uruha is just waiting for it to break.

And then it does, as Reita slips on the wet kitchen floor and smacks his forehead into the cabinet. He makes a low groaning sound, and the sound of his face hitting the wood is so loud that Uruha's heart jumps into his throat.

"Oh my god!" Uruha gasps, reaching for Reita before he can stop himself. He cups Reita's cheeks in his hands as the bassist sinks to the floor, wincing, and the moment is so unexpected that before he can stop himself, Uruha's giggling.

The pained expression on Reita's face turns into shock as he realizes Uruha's laughing at him. "Hey!" Uruha tries to stop himself but he can't so he raises his hand to his mouth, trying to stifle his giggles instead. It doesn't work.

"I'm sorry!" He laughs. "Y-Your face- I'm sorry, are you okay?" He lets out an unattractive snort and for a moment he worries that Reita is upset before the bassist sighs and starts chuckling as well.

"Yeah." Reita rubs his forehead with the heel of his palm and Uruha starts giggling again.

"I'll get you some ice," he giggles, straightening up and grabbing a pack out of the freezer. He turns back to Reita, who's now sitting on the floor and sits beside him, handing him the ice pack. "Here." He's giggling again and he can't stop himself.

"Uru," Reita sighs, looking exasperated but amused as he presses the ice pack to his forehead.

"I'm sorry, I'll stop," the brunette says, taking a deep breath to calm himself. It doesn't work. He starts giggling again and the next moment, Reita is laughing too. They're both laughing, and they're sitting on the floor in Reita's kitchen, and it's ridiculous, but it feels like home. And Uruha missed that. When the laughter finally dies down, Uruha wonders if that ridiculous awkward silence is going to return, but it doesn't. Instead Reita smiles at him, that soft, warm smile that he missed, and asks softly,

"Ready to talk?" Uruha hesitates, chewing on his bottom lip. His worries from earlier come back full force and he's tempted to run away again, but the look in Reita's eyes is so soft, so hopeful, that Uruha can't help himself but nod.

 

They move to the couch to talk. Uruha curls back up in the blankets, leaning against one of the arm rests so that he can face Reita. He has his knees pulled up to his chest, and his back is going to ache if he sits in this position for too long, but this is the position he feels most shielded in. Not that he needs to shield himself from Reita. It's more of a metaphorical shield, anyway.

There's a moment of silence, and Uruha's really getting tired of these awkward moments of silence, so he speaks first.

"Before you say anything," he says quickly, averting his eyes. "I'm sorry." The words are easier to say than he expects and he can feel a weight lift off his shoulders as he says them. Feeling a bit better, Uruha spares a look up at Reita, but pauses when he doesn't see what he expects. Instead of anger, or hurt, or forgiveness, or even nothing at all, a look of utter confusion has taken over Reita's expression, and Uruha is not quite sure what to do with that. He opens his mouth, stuttering a bit through the next words, trying to see if he can get a different reaction. "I-I shouldn't have done that, I-I'm s-sorry, I shouldn't- I didn't mean-" Reita only looks more confused, so Uruha takes a deep breath and tries again. "I didn't mean to lose control."

"...Lose control?" Reita asks, cocking his head. "Uru-"

Reita's confusion is too much for Uruha and he has to avert his eyes again, speaking quickly to cut the dom off. "I'm sorry for losing control. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I'm sorry, I was just freaking out and you were there and you were just saying all the right things, and I'm so sorry it'll never happen again-" Reita grabs his hand, stopping his rambling. "-I'm sorry," he finishes softly, slowly looking up at Reita. His heart is beating like crazy with how nervous he is, and he’s surprised he’s not hyperventilating a bit.

 _Little victories_ , he guesses.  

"Uruha, what are you apologizing for?" Reita asks gently, scooting a bit closer. Now it's Uruha's turn to be confused.

"For- for dropping. At the live," his words taper off, voice getting smaller. He doesn't understand what's happening. Reita makes a disbelieving sound and it shoots straight into his heart, and for a moment, Uruha thinks he made a mistake. But then Reita's speaking, gently tugging on Uruha's fingers to keep their gazes locked.

"You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I'm the one who's sorry," he says softly, and just when Uruha couldn't get anymore confused, Reita chuckles. "I'm sorry for dropping you." Uruha's eyes widen.

"You're sorry for dropping me?" He gapes. This isn't making any sense. He had been the one who had gone under, dropped without any warning or prompting from the dom. None of this was Reita's fault. Reita nods slowly.

"I took advantage of you, and I'm sorry," he says softly, and suddenly it all makes sense.

Reita wasn’t mad at him for dropping, Reita thought he was mad at him for making him drop!

Now it's his turn to let out his own disbelieving laugh as he realizes just how fucking warped his mind had turned this, had made it into a huge fucking thing when he should have just fucking _talked_ to Reita. At the noise, Reita has the gall to look angry at himself and before Uruha can stop himself, he's tugging at Reita's hand in return, letting his legs straighten so that his knees are no longer shielding himself.

"Reita..." He says softly, biting his lip. "You saved me."

Reita's eyes are wide and disbelieving. He shakes his head.

"Uruha, I took advantage of you. You weren't in your right mind, you weren't able to consent to a drop-" Uruha shakes his head as well, cutting Reita off.

"Reita. I was panicking," he murmured. "I've never had a panic attack that bad before." Uruha pauses, forcing himself to keep eye contact with Reita despite his embarrassment. "I was panicking and if you hadn't stopped me, I wouldn't have been able to go back on stage. Sure, maybe if it was a dom I didn’t know or if it was Aoi or Kai, it would have been weird. But it was you. _You saved me_ ," he repeats softly, and he can't quite explain why Reita dropping him is different from anyone else in the band, but it just makes sense. There's a slight blush on his cheeks. He refuses to acknowledge its existence.

Reita stares at him in awe, mouth agape. "So this whole time, you weren't mad at me?" he asks slowly and Uruha shakes his head.

"Of course not."

"Then why... why did you avoid me all week?"

Uruha blushes and looks away. "I thought you were mad at me. I lost control, and I was embarrassed." Reita's mouth flaps a bit in awe, but his shoulders slump in relief.

"Oh my god. So this whole week was just a misunderstanding," he sighs, and for a moment Uruha worries that Reita's mad for his lack of communication, but he chuckles softly instead and finally, fucking finally, Uruha can feel the weight of the week lift off his chest.

"Yeah," he says softly. "Sorry about that." Uruha flushes, but he feels relieved and happy and he suddenly can't stop smiling. It's going to be okay, he hasn't lost Reita, and before he can stop himself, he's crawling across the couch and hugging the blonde. He buries his face in Reita's shoulder, squeezing him tightly. Uruha hopes he can convey his relief, his happiness, all the emotions bubbling up that he knows he doesn't have the energy to say out loud, and it's not the most comfortable hug, with their bodies awkwardly strung out over the couch, backs hunched, and Uruha's knee digging in Reita's thigh, but Uruha's sure Reita gets what he's going for.

How couldn't he?

He's his best friend.

And that's not changing any time soon.

 

* * *

 

 

"What's this about losing control?" Reita asks suddenly, later when they're standing around the kitchen island eating ice cream out of the carton. Uruha pauses, spoon halfway to his mouth as he looks up.

"Hm?"

"Earlier. You said you were embarrassed about losing control. But it was my fault that you dropped, not yours. You don't have anything to be embarrassed about," Reita hums, then pauses as well, looking a bit more meek. "Or, at least I don't think so," he adds as an afterthought. Uruha finishes the ice cream that's starting to melt on his spoon as he takes a moment to think.

How does he explain the way he felt after coming out of the drop, like his feet had been swept out from underneath him? How does he explain the all consuming pull of a drop, the fuzziness that overtakes one's mind, the loss of domain over your own limbs when the drop sets in? How does he even begin to explain the role of the sub in society, the stress of maintaining one's dignity, one's purity, and one’s virtue?

How does he explain to a dom, someone who's been told his whole life that it's okay to give into his baser instincts, it's okay to listen to the voice of his dom, it's okay to take control sometimes, that subs are taught the opposite, to keep a lid on their instincts, ignore the voice of their sub, and to _never_ lose control?

That's one fucking heavy topic.

"Hey," Reita says gently, snapping him out of his spiral. "You're getting that lost look in your eye. Talk to me," he hums, spooning more ice cream into his mouth. Uruha swallows.

"I don't really know how to explain it," he says truthfully. "It's complicated." Reita nods, his gaze unwavering. It makes Uruha blush a bit under the scrutiny, but he also appreciates it, comforted by how seriously Reita seems to be taking this conversation. "I mean, I guess I could simplify it," he shrugs, shoving more ice cream in his mouth. Reita smiles.

"You can if you want to."

Uruha swallows the ice cream in his mouth, then attempts to start.

"It's hard. To be without Kenta- no- to be without a dom," he corrects himself, because at this point, he's not even sure if it's about Kenta anymore. "It's weird not to drop so often, it's weird to be alone in the apartment, it's weird to not have someone to balance me out, I guess." He taps his spoon against the counter, a nervous habit, but Reita ignores it, nodding again. "But you already knew that," Uruha adds quickly. Reita's heard all of this before. And Uruha knows he understands- about as much as a dom can.

"But there's more," Reita prompts, not rudely but gently, cause he can tell Uruha's starting to get lost in his thoughts like he always does, thinking about a million things at once and not saying any of them at all, and the spoon is tapping more loudly. "We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to, but you know you can be honest with me," Reita says gently, moving around the island to bump their hips together.

The change in position is comforting. Reita's presence beside him, hips brushing, shoulders pressed together as they both lean on their elbows on the counter – it's reassuring, but it also means that Uruha doesn't have to look Reita directly in the eye. He knows Reita did that on purpose.

His best friend knows him too well.

"You don't have to worry about it not making sense or being too complicated. Just say what's on your mind."

So Uruha does.

"It's frustrating to think you're finally getting somewhere, finally becoming independent, finally finding yourself, only to be reminded that you're a slave to your instincts and those instincts make you weak and susceptible to everything under the fucking sun. It's frustrating when you're trying to prove to everyone that you can handle shit but the truth is you can't and everyone fucking knows it, and they're just humoring you at this point because everyone knows the inevitable truth but you. It's embarrassing when even the slightest thing sends you into a panic that you can't even bring yourself out of, someone else has to do it for you because you're just that fucking weak, and then it sends you into an involuntary subdrop, just to punctuate how fucking needy and dependent you are." He starts slowly, trying to police each word, but as he gains momentum the words pour out of him before he can think and the spoon stops tapping, and he stops breathing and he's pretty sure Reita stops breathing beside him, and he flushes again. "Fuck- sorry, that was a lot."

Reita gently bumps their hips together, another reassurance, but his next words are so painfully true that if Uruha couldn't breathe before, he's definitely suffocating now.

"But that's not everything, is it?" He asks gently, turning to look at him despite their close proximity. Uruha does the same, quiet shame and hurt bubbling up in his chest, and he doesn't even have the energy to cry so he just nods in confirmation. Reita's eyes are sad, so fucking sad, but he doesn't say anything, instead wrapping an arm around Uruha's shoulders and pulling him into his side.

Uruha melts against him, breath shaky, and they both take a moment, stewing in the confession.

"I'm sorry," Reita whispers after a moment, and Uruha didn't think it would be possible, but he manages to smile, looking up at his friend again.

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault," he says softly. The look in Reita's eyes is so remorseful, so mournful and sad, and filled with so much pain for him that Uruha finds he can only look at Reita for a moment before it gets to be too much, and he has to look back at the countertop. Their spoons lay forgotten on the granite, and the ice cream has melted into a puddle in the carton, and a quick glance at the clock says it's one in the morning, but neither of them move for a long time.

"It's bullshit," Reita says suddenly, and when Uruha looks back up at the blonde, he's surprised by the anger in his eyes.

"What?" He whispers.

"Being a sub doesn't make you weak. That’s bullshit. I don't know who said that to you, or who taught you that, but being a sub doesn't make you weak. Or needy, or dependent." He says the words so firmly that Uruha is almost inclined to believe him, but not really. He lets out a small, bitter chuckle.

"Maybe it's just me then."

Then Reita's pulling away to look at him with an incredulous look.

"Do you really believe that?" He asks softly, and his voice has become so so quiet, like he's afraid to hurt Uruha with the power of his voice alone. Uruha can't meet his gaze. He shrugs, looking down at his hands. "Fuck, Kou. How long have you been holding onto this?" Uruha doesn't answer. He doesn't know how. A moment later, Reita's arm is back around his shoulders, but he's pulling him in for a real hug. "It's not true. I don't know if you'll believe me, but it's not true. You're so strong, Kouyou. I know you are, I've seen it." The words are meant to be reassuring, Uruha knows, but they just hurt. He knows Reita's going to keep speaking if he doesn't stop him, so he says the first thing that comes mind.

"Akira? I'm tired," he whispers into the blonde’s shoulder, realizing how true it is as he says it. "Can I sleep on your couch?"

There's a pause from Reita before he straightens up, nodding but not removing his arms. "Let's go to sleep. We can share the bed tonight," he hums, and they don't normally, but Uruha's tired and he missed his best friend and he's feeling emotionally exhausted so he just nods and lets Reita waddle them into the bedroom. "You can borrow something, you know where everything is. I'll go put the ice cream away."

While Reita leaves the room to clean up, Uruha grabs a pair of sweatpants and slips into the bathroom. He changes into the pants quickly and takes off his button up, leaving him in a white tank top. He quickly splashes his face with water and scrubs away the remnants of the day before slipping back into the bedroom and curling up under the covers, making sure to leave space for Reita.

Five minutes later, the lights are out and they're curled up together, and someone else would probably find it weird how close they are but Uruha doesn't. Reita's warm and he feels like home, and they're best friends.

W _ho doesn't cuddle with their best friend?_ Uruha asks himself as he dozes. _We do this all the time. This is totally platonic. 100% platonic,_  He tells himself, even as he subconsciously presses his nose to Reita's sweatshirt clad shoulder to get closer because Reita smells good and it’s making Uruha feel the good kind of sleepy.

Before he drifts off, Reita turns to face him.

"Hey Kou?"

Uruha hums, eyes shut.

"If I asked you to, would you see a therapist?" Reita sounds nervous when he asks the question, but the words don't quite register with Uruha's brain. He's too tired and sleepy and fuzzy.

"Are you asking?" He murmurs. There's a pause and Uruha wonders if that was too snarky.

"Yeah, actually. I am," Reita says, a moment later, and Uruha shrugs, still not 100% sure what the original question was. But he doesn't really care, Reita's warm, and he feels like he got a lot off his chest tonight, and he has his best friend back. Things aren’t so bad anymore, so why the fuck not?

"Sure."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Can I go to sleep now?"

"Yeah. Goodnight Uru." He can hear the smile in Reita's voice, and it makes Uruha smile as well, so he turns to hide it in the pillows.

"Night Aki. Thank you."

Reita’s next words are uttered so softly, so reverently, but Uruha’s already asleep, so the words float off into the darkness, heard by the speaker alone.

"Anything for you."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed

When Uruha wakes the next morning, it’s to an empty bed and the smell of coffee. He rolls over in the sheets, pressing his face to the pillow as he tries to remember the night before. It’s easy enough – evidently he really hadn’t had that much to drink at the drop den. His stomach turns as he recounts his near drop with Kosuke and for a moment he feels guilty for not telling Reita about that last night.

Then again, should he? Why would he? It’s not like he and Reita tell each other everything.

Or at least, not anymore.

_Which is fine_ , he tells himself as he climbs out of bed, slipping into the bathroom to relieve himself. They’re grown men now. They’re still best friends, it’s okay if they don’t quite have the same intimacy they did growing up.

A check of his watch reveals it’s about 9 in the morning, which means he should be plenty awake. He isn’t but he doesn’t feel bad either, just sleepy in a good way- except for the pain in his eyes. He forgot to take out his contacts last night, but honestly it feels less like he's got day old contacts in there, and more like he stuffed sandpaper behind his eyelids and left it there to smooth things over.

After washing his hands and splashing a bit of water on his face, he takes the contacts out, wincing in pain. Things go blurry for a moment, but it’s no big deal as he opens the bottom drawer to the right, fishing out his spare pair of glasses and toothbrush.

When he can finally see and his mouth tastes not half bad, Uruha shuffles out and into the kitchen, where Reita is sitting at the island, reading a book and sipping coffee. “Morning,” he hums, as to not surprise Reita as he walks over, brushing by him and going to make himself some coffee. Reita briefly looks up from his book, humming a greeting back.

“Oh, I already made you some. It’s in the microwave to keep warm,” he says and Uruha grins, familiar warmth in his chest as he reroutes and goes to grab it.

“You’re the best Rei,” he sighs, cupping the mug in both hands. It’s warm and it smells so good and this is what mornings look like in his dreams (As long as you count out the contact fiasco).

“I know I am,” Reita hums as Uruha plops down on a stool, sipping the coffee slowly and humming happily. “No hangover?” he asks after a moment, a hint of amusement in his voice. Uruha pauses, mug halfway to his mouth.

Uruha's never been a light drinker, and he's good at holding his liquor. He's good at acting completely sober, even when he's completely smashed, so it's no surprise when he sometimes wakes in the morning with a hangover after acting completely unaffected the night before. 

Still, why would Reita ask about a hangover? They hadn’t drunk together last night, so the only reason he would ask about a hangover is if he knew Uruha had gone out before coming to his place afterwards. 

The sub flushes and feels a bit of guilt pool in his stomach, but he’s not really sure why. Again, it’s not like he and Reita tell each other everything.

“How’d you know I was out?” Uruha pushes down the guilt and smiles at his friend, trying to appear amused by his observation skills rather than shaken.

“You were dressed up. I know you wouldn’t dress up like that just to see me, no matter what fight we’re having,” Reita looks up at him and Uruha flushes harder at being caught.

“You got me. I went to a drop den last night,” The sub pushes the words out, trying to keep his tone light. He doesn’t really want to clue Reita in on the fact that things had gone wrong because honestly he talked a lot last night and he may be awake and feeling good, but that was definitely enough emotional turmoil for one 24-hour period. He adds a small smile for good measure before taking another sip of coffee.

Reita’s eyebrows shoot up at the confession and he doesn’t respond immediately. “Oh-” He looks a little bit flustered, and Uruha raises an eyebrow in amusement, real this time. It’s a little funny to see Reita suddenly flustered at the thought of him at a den. He snickers from behind his coffee cup, feeling a little bit better about the topic now that he had seen Reita’s expression. “D-Did you have a good time?”

Uruha can’t help the laugh that escapes his mouth at the sight of Reita acting so awkward. “Yeah,” he lies. “I’ll spare the details though. I can tell you don’t want to hear them.” Reita’s eyes widen and he flushes further at being called out. He looks like he doesn’t know what to say so Uruha decides to spare him as well. “Are you doing anything today?” Reita looks surprised, and then thankful at the change in topic as he puts his book down.

“Yeah actually.” He nods. “I’m having lunch with Kai and Ruki, if you want to come?” He offers, looking up and Uruha pauses at the words.

He really doesn’t want to see Kai.

He can feel the smile drop from his lips. “Oh-” Now it’s his turn to look flustered. “Um no, it’s okay, I just remembered I have to call Asako today,” Uruha makes it up on the spot, feeling rather proud of himself until Reita raises an unamused eyebrow at him.

“Uru,” he sighs and Uruha pouts.

“I really don’t want to see Kai right now.”

“He’s not mad anymore. Actually he feels really bad,” Reita says, putting his coffee down, and Uruha knows he’s telling the truth. He had seen the texts Kai had sent him that he hadn’t replied to. “I think you should come, talk to him.”

But there’s an ugly feeling in Uruha’s gut and he shakes his head. “I’m not ready to see him.” The sub takes another big sip from his coffee before meeting Reita’s gaze and giving a small smile. “You go enjoy your lunch. It’s fine.” Reita sighs and looks like he’s going to fight him, but he doesn’t.

“Are you sure? I can call and cancel.”

Uruha shakes his head so fast he almost gives himself whiplash. “No, you go out. It’s really okay, Rei,” He says firmly. He doesn’t want to be the reason Reita cancels his day, and he definitely doesn’t want Ruki and Kai to blame him for more shit. It’s fine. He had a late night, he’ll go home, shower, and take a nap. It’ll be fine.

He can feel Reita observing him carefully before he lets out another sigh. “Okay, if you say so.” He takes another sip of his coffee, then grins, a glint in his eye. “I’m not leaving until twelve though, do you want to play some playstation until then?” He asks, and Uruha’s attention is snared once again.

He looks up at Reita, the ugly feeling dissipating quickly and he laughs, hopping off the barstool. “Hell yeah.”

 

Later, as Uruha pulls on his shoes and rolls up the cuffs of his dress shirt in preparation for the hot summer heat, Reita shoves a piece of paper in his hands.

"What's this?" He hums, unfolding it and looking at the digits scrawled hastily over the paper before looking back up at his friend. Reita scratches the back of his neck and Uruha wonders why he suddenly seems nervous.

"It's a therapist. She's good, she's a grief counselor, but she also works with subs handling trauma. A friend recommended her."

Uruha looks down at the paper, then at his friend, then back at the paper. Then back at his friend. "Rei... A therapist?" Reita sighs.

"Uruha, you said you would see a therapist if I asked," Reita says and he's right, Uruha vaguely remembers agreeing to something that Reita was asking him and if he thinks hard enough, Reita was definitely asking him to see someone.

"I was half asleep. Besides, I don't need a therapist, and I haven't experienced any kind of trauma," he argues. For a second, Reita looks like he's going to argue with that before he shuts his mouth and takes Uruha's hand. A flicker of the whirlwind of emotions that were present in his eyes last night return and Uruha's heart hurts.

"Please Ko? Just call her? For me?" he asks softly and Uruha sighs. It's not fair that he's so weak for Reita when he gets all soft like that. He gently squeezes Reita's hand and nods.

"I'll call her. And I'll call you later," Uruha promises and Reita smiles.

"Thank you, Uru," he hums, letting go of Uruha so he can slip out of the door. But before he does, Uruha leans over and hugs Reita quickly.

"Thank you for last night, Rei. I'm glad we sorted things out." He feels Reita hug him back and chuckle and he can't help but let a smile come over his own features.

"Me too. I'll see you later."

When they pull apart, Uruha shoves the number in his pocket and steps out the door. "Bye~" He hums, and Reita grins and waves as Uruha hops down the stairs and out.

As Uruha walks home, in the clothes from the night before with his spare glasses on and a therapist's number in his pocket, he should feel like shit. Instead, he walks with a spring in his step and a warm glow in his chest that has his inner sub preening.

 

* * *

 

 

"So, how's Uruha?" Ruki asks as they sit down at their table. Reita's always been appreciative of Ruki's bluntness. If there's anyone who isn't messing around, it's Ruki and he supposes that's kind of how you have to be when you're a switch. They get the most shit, and they're the ones that grow up with the hardest shells. Still, Reita's never met anyone like Ruki.

"He's okay. He came over last night," Reita hums, looking at the menu and missing the look Ruki and Kai send each other.

"Did he say anything about us?" Ruki asks, again not one to beat around the bush. Reita sighs and puts his menu down to meet their eyes.

The three of them had reconciled the day after the live. Reita didn't (completely) blame them for what had happened. Tensions had been high, they were all running on post-live adrenaline, and though their anger had been pretty misplaced, it was understandable that the two had been pretty freaked out by the what if's of what could have happened. After a long talk, and a lot of apologies, both sides had backed down and agreed that looking out for Uruha was their top priority.

"No," Reita admits. "He didn't. We were kind of caught up. Just give him time guys. He's dealing with a lot of shit right now." Reita tries to keep his mind from dwelling on Uruha's confession from the night before, not wanting to upset himself at the table. 

It would be an understatement to say that hearing Uruha say those things the night before had been a shock to his system. Since Kenta's death, Reita had known that Uruha was struggling. He knew the sub was lonely, was more anxious than usual, and had grown more insecure. But if he was honest with himself, he had chalked most of it up to the grieving process. Embarrassingly enough, Reita had assumed that once Uruha had recovered from Kenta's death (as much as one could recover from the death of a loved one), the other problems would go away as well.

He hadn't realized just how deep the issues were rooted.

To hear Uruha say such things about himself had broken Reita's heart. He's almost inclined to hate himself for not noticing sooner, but he knows Uruha doesn't need to deal with his self deprecating ass on top of everything else. Besides, Uruha would just slap him and tell him not to blame himself.

Reita just hopes Uruha listens to him about the therapist.

Kai sighs and takes out his menu. "Just, tell him we're sorry? Please?"

"He knows. Just give him space. He'll come around," Reita promises before holding his menu up straight, an indication that they're done with this conversation. Ruki and Kai shoot each other another look, but Reita ignores them this time, choosing what to order.

Soon enough the waitress has walked over, pad of paper in hand. Reita orders first, and as Ruki’s asking whether he can get strawberry iced tea but without the strawberries, Reita feels his phone buzz. He pulls it out of his pocket, seeing a text from Uruha. There’s an image attached and Reita can’t help the smile that comes over his face as he opens it.

The image is a picture of a book that Reita recognizes as one he had posted on twitter a couple weeks back.

“Started reading this while we weren’t talking. Glad that we are now. Thank you for being patient with me.” Sent 12:37.

Reita grins and types out an answer.

“It’s a good book. Let me know what you think!” Sent 12:38

“Thank you for talking to me. I’ll always be here to listen.” Sent 12:38.

Reita puts his phone back in his pocket when he’s done and the waitress has walked away, meeting Ruki’s inquisitive gaze.

“Was that Uruha?” Reita sighs.

“Yes. Don’t ask me, we’re not talking about you. End of conversation,” Reita says firmly, but he smiles to show he’s not mad. Ruki rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling as well.

The three of them make small talk as they wait for the food to arrive, and Ruki’s speaking animatedly about the new Nil Due line when the waitress brings over their plates. 

Reita digs in eagerly, nodding along as the conversation shifts into making fun of Kai’s fashion, chuckling as Ruki digs at his lover. Kai’s taking it well, but after nearly ten minutes both Reita and Ruki can tell he’s getting tired of it, so Reita switches gears.

"What do you guys know about drop dens?" Reita asks, the question escaping his lips before he has a chance to stop it. Something about the thought of Uruha going to a drop den the night before had been bothering him all morning, and he’s not sure why. Kai looks grateful for the change in topic, but also amused.

"Why do you want to know? Planning to go to one?" He teases, and Ruki kicks him under the table. Reita ignores the flush on his cheeks at the question.

"No, I'm just curious. Uruha went to one last night, and when he came to my place after, he seemed pretty upset about something. He claims everything at the den went well, but I don't believe him, and I don't know anything about them," he explains.

Kai and Ruki exchange their third glance of the afternoon. Reita sighs.

This is why you don't third wheel with couples.

"A drop den is basically like a club but for dropping. You go to meet people, subs go to get dropped, doms go to drop subs, everyone goes to have sex. You can pay for professionals, but honestly it's not worth it," Ruki explains, eating his food as if it’s no big deal. Reita kind of disagrees. Kai laughs, looking at Ruki.

"How do you know it's not worth it?" he teases and Ruki levels him with a good-natured glare.

"It's not like I didn't go out before we got together, dumbass," He hums, picking up a piece of meat and gently shoving it in Kai's mouth to get him to shut up. Kai snorts around the food but the look he gives Ruki is nothing if not absolutely moonstruck.

Gross.

"Anyways, they're just like your standard strip club except for dropping." Ruki shrugs. "How beat up did Uruha seem?"  

"Not too bad," Reita says honestly. "He seemed more anxious that he was talking to me," he admits, a second later, guilt flaring a bit at the reminder that Uruha had literally been scared to see to him.

"Hmm, well I'm glad you guys worked things out," Ruki hums, already moving onto the next topic of conversation. Reita tries to listen, he really does, but something's still bugging him.

"So are drop dens like a one night stand type thing?" He blurts. Both Ruki and Kai stop in their tracks, looking up at him in confusion. Ruki opens his mouth, stuttering out an answer, but before he can get a full word out, Kai's grinning and cutting him off.

“Why are you so hung up on this drop den, huh?" The drummer has that look on his face, like he knows something Reita doesn't, and years of working with the drummer makes him feel a little bit scared to be on the receiving end of that look. He shrugs, trying to look for the right answer.

"I don't know, I'm just curious," he repeats, but Kai shakes his head, shit eating grin spreading wider.

"You're jealous."

Reita's eyebrows shoot up. "Jealous? Of what?"

Kai's grin turns into more of a smirk.

Apprehension rises in Reita’s chest. He starts looking around the restaurant, noting the exits in case he needs to make an escape.  Once he's mapped out the most effective routes to the doors and has looked back at the couple across from him, Ruki's grinning as well and now it's his turn to tease the bassist.  

"You're jealous that Uruha went and got a drop from another dom."

Laughter bubbles up in Reita's chest. "Oh you have got to be kidding me. That's ridiculous. What do I have to be jealous of? Uruha's not my sub."

"No, but you wish he was," Ruki snickers, and Reita jumps to deny it so fast it seems suspicious, even to himself. 

"I do not. He's my best friend. I'm just concerned for him," Reita insists, but Kai is shaking his head again, going back to eating his food and Ruki is looking at him with a glint in his eye.

"Deny it all you want, Rei. You're jealous. It's okay to admit, it's what happens when you're in love."

Reita's heart skips a beat.

...

"I'm sorry, what?" Reita can't believe his ears. At that, Kai finally pauses. A blanket of silence covers the table. Ruki scoffs.

"Come on Akira. Don't play dumb."

"No no no, please, I don't think I heard you properly. What?" Reita puts down his chopsticks, suddenly feeling like this conversation holds more weight than he anticipated. His heart is beating fast, and he's not really sure why.

"You can't be serious," Ruki hums, an eyebrow raised. Kai places a hand on Ruki's shoulder, seemingly noticing Reita's discomfort. Ruki doesn't pay attention. "Reita we all know."

"Know  _what?_ Are you suggesting that I-" Reita points at himself, speaking slowly to get through his words without stuttering. "am in love with Uruha. My best friend." The words don't sound as weird coming out of his mouth as they should.

Kai and Ruki share another glance (of fucking course).

"Okay, so what I'm getting here is that we all knew," Kai says slowly. He clasps his hands together and puts them in front of him on the table, looking diplomatic as fuck. "But you didn't."

This is starting to feel a lot like some sort of soap opera. Reita's a deer in the headlights, cornered by the GazettE's power couple as they accuse him of things that are absolutely ridiculous, but he can't deny them because there's no way they'd listen anyways.

"You guys are ridiculous. I'm not in love with Uruha." Nonetheless he tries.

"Reita, you're always thinking of him. Worrying about him, wondering if he's okay, how he's doing. You guys see each other every day, and when you don't you're texting literally every second." Reita's phone buzzes in his pocket as if to to punctuate Ruki’s words.

"We're best friends. Of course we text all the time. Of course I wonder how he's doing, he's going through a lot of shit right now," Reita defends. Ruki gives him a look. He's not impressed.

"You follow him around like a puppy dog. It would be sad if it wasn't so cute," Ruki huffs.

"You laugh at all his jokes. You read him the way Ruki can read me; you always know what he's thinking, how he's feeling, when he needs a moment, when he needs his space," Kai begins to add his two cents, food forgotten between the three of them.

"You think he looks great in everything, which, let's be real, he doesn't," Ruki says and Reita feels a little insulted on Uruha's behalf.

"You're just jealous because you're shorter than him." The words come out before he can stop them. Ruki raises an eyebrow.

"My case in point."

Reita flushes. He feels entirely too overwhelmed. They've totally caught him off guard, it's so not fair.

"You look at him like he's the best thing that ever happened to you," Kai says softly.

_ That's because he is.  _ His mind supplies.

Oh.

Reita's eyes widen and his heart begins to race even faster. He’d been fending off their accusations before, but after that lovely thought from his brain, it's undeniable; they might have a point.

"He practically lives at your apartment. You guys share clothes, hats, everything. You have a spare pair of his prescription glasses at your apartment, for god's sake-"

"Well not anymore," Reita says defensively, and he knows it's not the right thing to say if he wants to preserve his dignity.

"And why's that?" Ruki hums expectantly. Reita flushes further.

"...Because he had to use them this morning," he says quietly and tries to ignore Kai's snort of amusement. In Kai's defense, he seems a little embarrassed to have made such a noise, but Reita would still glare at him if he wasn't feeling so totally out of his depth. 

Reita must look how he feels because Ruki suddenly appears a little remorseful for putting Reita on the spot like this. "Reita, Kai and I didn't even have each other's prescriptions before we moved in together," he says the words a little more gently and Reita's thankful for that.

He feels a little weak. His head is spinning, he feels a little bit sick, but at the core of everything, he knows Kai and Ruki are right. He puts his elbows on the table, his chin in the palm of his hand. The waitress comes over to ask if they're done with their plates, and he just nods even though there's still food on his. He's not hungry anymore.

"Rei." Ruki reaches over to gently touch his elbow. "We're not telling you this because we want you to get upset. We're telling you this because we think it's important for you to be honest with yourself."

Reita knows he's right. About everything. But as he’s having his little revelation, he’s also struck with the very real fact that even if he is head over heels for his best friend, there’s no way Uruha feels the same way. He forces himself to nod.

“And you don’t have to look like it’s a death sentence,” The switch chuckles. Reita isn’t sure what’s so funny. “Being in love is a good thing."

“Not if he doesn’t feel the same way,” Reita says, a little hoarsely, and Kai and Ruki pause, sharing another look. At this point Reita’s going to develop a pavlovian response to those two fucking looking at each other.

“You can’t know that,” Kai says, but Reita can tell in his voice that he’s doubting it too.

“He only lost Kenta a year ago. He doesn’t feel the same way.” The finality in his own voice is too obvious, and it’s paired with a pang in his chest. Ruki sighs and squeezes his elbow. Reita doesn’t want to see the pity in his eyes.

“Hey,” Kai murmurs. It’s a tone of voice that Reita’s not used to hearing from the other dom, and he forces himself to look up. “Ignore the fact that he doesn’t feel the same way. Ignore the fact that you love him. Just think of your best friend, think of having a good time with him, think of his smile. He makes you happy, doesn’t he?”

Reita bites his lip, his mind drifting to Uruha that morning, fast asleep beside him. His hair had been all over the fucking place, strewn across the pillows, across his cheek (the one with the cute little mole), and there had been a little bit of drool on his chin. He had looked so sweet, so young, so soft, but Reita’s heart hadn’t freaked like he had expected. He had just felt warm. Warm and happy.

He hadn’t even realized that feeling was love.

“That’s what’s important,” Kai says softly, breaking him out of his trance. “That’s what’s beautiful about love. That’s what you need to focus on.”

Reita breathes in deeply, nodding. The couple watches him in silence as he gets a grip on what the fuck just happened.

“Would you like the check?” The waitress asks and Reita didn't even notice her walk over. Kai nods and thanks her. Reita listens to the click of her heels as she walks away.

Okay.

So he’s in love with his best friend.

And he’s had no idea for how long.

And his best friend doesn’t love him back.

No big deal.

Just kidding.

Big  _ fucking _  deal.

How  _ the fuck _  does he even begin to deal with that?

“This is a lot,” he says quietly, and looks up at them. Ruki finally has the good sense to look guilty.

“I know. Sorry,” he says softly. “But this is good! Being honest with yourself is the first step right?”

Reita pauses and cocks his head. He’s not sure if he wants to ask what the second step is because he’s had a hell of a trip into his own subconscious already, but whelp he’s on a streak, might as well go all the way.

“First step of what?”

“First step of getting over him,” Ruki says, like it’s obvious. Reita starts.

“Taka,” Kai says softly, warning in his tone, but Ruki ignores him.

“I mean, if he doesn’t love you back, you’ve got to get over him. Move on. That’s what you want, right?”

It makes sense.  Reita opens his mouth to agree, but something stops him.

Does he want that?

Like Kai said, Uruha makes him happy. Jealousy of the drop den aside, being with Uruha makes him happy. He feels warm when they’re together, safe when Uruha’s with him. He feels invincible with his best friend by his side. If that’s love, he’s not sure he’s ready to let those feelings go.

“No,” he finds himself saying. Ruki’s eyes widen and Reita can tell he caught him off guard.

“-Oh. Oh, okay then,” he hums, a little perkier than he had been a moment before. “In that case, it’s not so bad.” Reita can't help the laugh that escapes him.

“Not so bad? Thanks Ru.” He says the words with a tinge of sarcasm, and it’s not really fair to Ruki, but sue him, he’s overwhelmed. He doesn’t have complete control over his emotions right now.

Reita suddenly wants to be alone.

“Well,” Kai says suddenly, clapping his hands and standing. “This has been a great meal, I’m glad we got together, Reita. We’re gonna go pay the bill,” The dom hums, and Reita’s thankful that Kai can tell he needs some space. “And we’ll leave you to your thinking.”

Ruki grabs Kai’s hand, looking a bit bewildered. “Babe, that’s rude-”

“No, it’s fine,” Reita says quickly, nodding. He shoots Kai a quick smile. “Thanks for lunch.” Reita reigns in his emotions for one moment longer, just enough to say goodbye as he stands and gives them both a quick one-armed hug. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Ruki stutters out a goodbye as Kai tugs him towards the front of the restaurant.

Reita waits, and it’s not until the couple has paid and exited the restaurant that Reita settles back into his seat, takes a sip of his water, and has his mental breakdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't intended to make this chapter so Reita-centric but it kind of got away from me, whoops! Anyways, thank you for all your kind and supportive comments so far, and I hope you enjoyed! <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed

Two days pass and Uruha forgets about the therapist. He doesn't mean to, it's just that he had put down the number when he had gotten home, too caught up in showering and cleaning and texting people back after his week-long hiatus, and he had forgotten about the slip of paper sitting on his desk.

And let's be real. Does he really need therapy? (The answer is no). Sure, he could have used some grief counseling when Kenta had first passed away, but he was on his way to recovery now. And he was having some trouble dropping, but every sub does sometimes.

Not to mention, the therapist Reita had recommended to him dealt with subs who had experienced trauma.

Yeah, Uruha's struggling a bit. He's not going to deny that.

But god, he's a grown man, not some basket case. (And can you imagine the scandal that would ensue if the media found out he was undergoing therapy?) He hasn't had any trauma in his life, he's in the works of getting a handle on his shit, and really, he's fine.

He's fine.

So yeah, no big deal that he forgets.

Forget might be the wrong word, he realizes later, when Reita texts him to ask if he's called her yet and he lies and says yes without even thinking.

So maybe he's avoiding it.

But really, he's thought this through. He doesn't need therapy. He just needs a little time to get his feet under him, and this break is the perfect opportunity.

He has plenty of free time, plenty of personal space, and plenty of peace and quiet.

In other words, this break is the perfect opportunity to fix this drop problem once and for all.

His first attempts are uneventful and unsuccessful.

Uruha starts out simple that night. After locking all the doors and windows in the house (because he’s heard far too many horror stories of subs who were raped or killed by intruders when they were too deep into subspace to fight back), he turns on some soft music, gets into his most comfortable clothes, and sits on the bed, surrounded by his soft, silk sheets. He's moved all the pillows into a nest so he's cradled in them and if Uruha was just trying to relax, he'd be in heaven. But dropping is about more than relaxing, and so far, just closing his eyes and telling himself to let go isn't doing the trick. He feels a little dumb just lying there, so he reroutes.

The sub moves his makeshift nest into the living room, snuggling up with his fluffiest blankets and turning on the tv for some white noise. That doesn't work either, instead only making him feel lonely and anxious.

He speaks to himself, softly, reciting some mantra his sister had taught him, and he's not sure if there's any actual evidence that this shit is supposed to work, but it has the phrase "good boy" in it, so he figures that it's got to count for something.

Except it doesn't.

All it does is make Uruha feel crazy for talking to himself, and his voice is starting to become hoarse.

It takes him three hours to try everything he can think of. The sub looks up dropping videos online, lights scented candles, listens to hypnosis tracks (and honestly he doesn't know how _anyone_ can relax listening to those. He feels like there's a stranger in his house and just it sends shivers down his spine and puts him on edge rather than making him feel fuzzy and relaxed). He runs himself a bath and uses all of his expensive bath bombs, covering his skin in glitter that he knows he's never going to be able to get rid of. He looks up tips online and tries every single one. He even tries hot cocoa in lieu of comfort food because without dom supervision, he wouldn't put it past himself to choke on a cracker when he's under. He drinks enough to make him sick, and it still doesn't work. Now he just feels nasty.

When he's run out of ideas, Uruha sits himself down on the couch and tries to will his stomach ache away. The tv is still going in the background and the air smells like artificial vanilla and at this point he doesn't even care about dropping anymore. He's strung out, and his head hurts from the smell, and his body hurts and he's just tired.

So he gives up.

Uruha flops in bed, spread eagle on the sheets, and wonders where he went wrong. Out of the corner of his eyes, he spots his collar sitting on the dresser. It would be so easy to walk over, slip it on and just succumb to the feeling. But he can't.

He drops fine when he's listening to Kenta's voice. He had dropped easily when Reita had put him under. So why the fuck can't he just do it himself? Why does he have to be so fucking useless?

But he guesses that's what it means to be a sub. Fucking useless, useless until you meet a big strong dom to put you in your place. Useless, until you find a dom that can control you and make sure you don't step out of line. Useless, until you find a dom to make you civilized, a dom that can provide for you, a dom to make dinner for and clean up for after a hard day of work. Useless, until you're the lesser half of a pair.

Cause that's all they are. Just pretty submissives to control and fuck.

So he guesses it makes sense that he can't drop without a dom.

But he can't drop with a dom either (not after the Kosuke catastrophe) so Uruha guesses he might as well just fuck off and become a hermit or some shit because if he can't be a proper sub on his own, and he can't be a proper sub with a dom, then what is he worth?

And the answer is nothing.

Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.

Part of him knows he's just thinking this way because it's nearly one in the morning and he's strung out and exhausted and that's when depression strikes, but part of him also knows that this is the cold hard truth, the truth he's known all his life. The truth his father had drilled into his skull before packing his bags and walking out of their lives. The truth he's seen every morning in the mirror for 36 years. The truth Kenta had tried to deny, but Kenta's not here now, and Uruha can't hide behind his sweet words anymore. He has to face the music.

Uruha doesn't sleep that night. He cycles between laying and stewing in his self hate and wanting to get up but being too exhausted to. At three in the morning, he scrolls through the band's old tweets. At four, he texts Kai back, a short reply about everything being fine between them, though he knows Kai is probably asleep at this hour. At five, he contemplates getting up to to go to the bathroom and at five-thirty he does so, but by six he's back in bed, watching alien conspiracy videos and contemplating his place in the universe, as if he hadn't already decided two hours earlier that his place in this universe was nowhere, and the universe was better off without him. At seven he resigns himself to not sleeping and climbs out of bed, walking into the kitchen to make himself a big ass cup of coffee.

As the sun peaks over the horizon, Uruha stands in his kitchen, squinting at the light filtering through the blinds and drinking more coffee than is probably healthy. He tries not to think about last night (a difficult task given that he hadn't slept) but at this point the overwhelming number of things he's trying not to think about is really starting to grate on his nerves. He's tired of stowing away a million things to feel regret over. He’s tired of filing things away as “don’t think about” and then thinking about them anyways.

After forcing himself to eat breakfast, Uruha goes for a walk, waters his plants, and makes himself busy cleaning. Except, there's nothing to clean. He's been spending so much of his time cleaning to avoid thinking that every corner of his apartment is spotless and it's starting to drive him crazy. His midlife crisis is turning him into some sort of golden boy, and he’d think it was funny if not for the fact that _he’s having a midlife crisis._ He's half tempted to go over to Reita's place and clean there as well, just to give him something to do.

Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear (or in this case text). Uruha hums in amusement as his phone pings with Reita's daily good morning text, reminding him to get out of bed if he hasn't already. The sub quickly texts back with an "already up! :) Thank you!", choosing not to mention the fact that he was never in bed to begin with. It's out of character enough, however, that Reita sees right through it.

"That's early. Feeling okay?" Sent 8:04.

Uruha bites his lip, wondering how much he wants to reveal. Yes, he's tired of trying not to think about his problems. But he's also tired of being the resident drama king. He's tired of talking about how shitty his life is, he's tired of talking about his problems, he's tired of being tired, and he's sure the others are tired of it too. On the other hand, this is Reita. His best friend, and they just made up. If there's anyone he can be transparent with, it's Reita.

"Couldn't sleep. Feeling antsy :/" Sent 8:08.

":( Any reason in particular?" Sent 8:08.

"Tried to drop last night, it didn't work. No big deal." Sent 8:09.

It kind of is a big deal, but he's feeling embarrassed enough as it is, he doesn't need Reita making a fuss. Dropping can sometimes be uncomfortable for doms to think about since they've never been on the receiving end of one. Doms have their needs, just as subs do, but most of the time, they can fulfill their need to take control in everyday life, a little bit at a time. For subs, handing over control takes a little less casualness and a lot more intimacy. It's not something they can do in everyday life, and it's not something that a lot of doms understand. It's pretty unfair, if you ask Uruha.

He tries to ignore how long it takes Reita to text back.

"Have you tried calling Asako? She helped you last time, right?" Sent 8:15.

He had thought about it. But she had enough shit on her plate, and he didn't want to worry her, and he knew that if she got worried she'd call Maaya, who'd call their mom, who would immediately drop everything and get on a train to come see him and shit he really doesn't want to be _that person_. He doesn't want everyone else to stop their lives just because he can't get a fucking grip on himself.

So yes, he had thought about calling Asako. But then he had decided not to.

"She's really busy with a new project right now. Besides, it's no big deal." Sent 8:17.

"You should call her. Even if it's for five minutes. I'm sure she can help." Sent 8:18.

"Really, Rei. It's not a huge deal. I have a doctor's appointment next week, worst comes to worst, they drop me there." Sent 8:18.

Although, if he's being honest with himself, Uruha's really really hoping it doesn't come to that. He'd had to drop once in the hospital, when he was 13 and had a fever of 43 degrees celsius and they tried to stick him with a needle that was way too fucking big and he wouldn't stop freaking out so they had to put him under. His mother says it had saved his life, but he looks back on it with little to no fondness. Medical dropping is too clinical, too forced, too sterile. Dropping requires intimacy, everyone knows it, and everyone knows you can't get intimacy in a doctor's office. Drug-induced subspace isn't even close to being like real subspace, and Uruha has done his best since then to never have to experience it again.

"If it's bad enough that you need a medical drop, it's a big deal. Call your sister." Sent 8:19.

Uruha really hates it when Reita gets like this sometimes, so stubborn and pushy and _right, goddamnit._

"Fine. But if she shows up at my house with the whole bandwagon because she's worried, you're taking the blame." Sent 8:21.

"Gladly." Sent 8:22.

 

It's still early, so he waits until midday to text Asako, asking if he can call. She texts back a little while later, saying she's on lunch break and can talk. Uruha settles on the couch, takes a deep breath, and calls.

"Baby bro!" Asako crows happily in his ear, and he's a little surprised by how much it makes him smile. He loves his job, he loves his apartment, and he loves Tokyo, but he would be lying if he didn't miss living in Kanagawa and seeing his family more often.

"Hey Asako," he hums, pulling his legs up to his chest and leaning against the back of his couch.

"What's up? How are you doing? How was the tour? Your nephew misses you," she hums happily and Uruha chuckles, his heart warming at the thought of the little imp.

"Tell him I miss him too, please."

"Of course." She's got that teasing lilt in her voice that makes everyone who hears it smile. Uruha's never been surprised at the number of suitors she had in highschool, and still does even though she's happily married.

"Hmm the tour went well, I'm doing okay," he lies, even though he knows she'll see right through it when they start talking about the reason he called. "How about you?"

Asako launches excitedly into her plans to take her family to the falls this weekend and Uruha nods along, chuckling as she promises that she's gonna turn her city-grown wife into a nature fanatic by the end of the trip. Her voice is so bright and lively, the way it's always been, but there's an undercurrent of pure unadulterated happiness, and Uruha finds himself wondering if this is what he sounded like before Kenta passed away, before he sunk into this bottomless hole, before he got all kinds of fucked. Then again, he guesses he's always been pretty fucked.

The conversation turns to her job as she gripes about a new stuck-up client who hadn't understood that hiring her meant hiring her whole team and _no you can't hire me for a shoot and then bring your own lighting guy it doesn't work like that_.

If Uruha had to think of a point in his life at which he'd been most proud, it probably would have been when Asako had opened up her own photography studio. He was still in high school, and his parents still thought he was going to college, and he was still crafting his plan to pursue music despite everything everyone said about subs not being fit for the hardships of the music industry. They had said the same about Asako, told her that she was ridiculous for trying to open and run her own studio, that she should wait until she found a dom to marry and then they could open the studio and she could work for them, that she should settle and find a studio where she could be hired as a receptionist or an assistant or some absolute bullshit like that, but she had stuck up her nose, turned the other way, and opened up the studio anyways. Uruha had never been more inspired, nor more proud (although the day his nephew graduated kindergarten came in close second).

It's safe to say that he wouldn't have been able to pursue music if it weren't for her.

She gasps suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts, and for a second he thinks there might be something wrong before she's cooing and squealing over the dog that just passed by the coffee shop window. Uruha can't hold it in. He starts laughing, his chest swelling with love for his sister and then suddenly he's crying, he's crying because he misses her and he misses home and he's exhausted and emotional and he's lonely and he just wants things to return to how they were. He hears Asako pause, her voice caught in her throat, and he tries to stop, he really does, but now that he's started he can't stop. The dam's been cracking for god knows how long and now it's broken and there's nothing he can do about it but just let it out.

"Sorry-" he gasps through the tears, a hand covering his mouth as if that will muffle it enough for her to think he's stopped.

"Fuck, Kouyou, honey, what's wrong? Was it something I said?" Uruha's shaking his head before he remembers that she can't see him.

"No, fuck, I'm sorry, it's not you, I-" He tries to take a deep breath but it comes out shaky and all kinds of wrong. "I think I'm just really on edge and over emotional right now and- fuck, sorry-" He wipes at his nose and it's been less than forty seconds but his voice has already gone all clogged and gross like the way it does after hours of crying. His sister waits patiently for him to finish. "-I just really miss you." There's a moment of silence that Asako gives him in case he's not finished yet, before she makes a soft noise and coming from anyone else the noise may have felt patronizing, but from her it sounds comforting because he knows she knows exactly how he's feeling. He closes his eyes against the tears and lets her voice soothe him.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry," She says softly and her voice wavers a bit. Uruha can just imagine the way she's running the tip of her finger around the rim of her coffee cup, the way she does when she's feeling a lot of different things but she's trying to keep a hold on them. He feels bad for making her emotional as well, especially since she's only on a lunch break before she has to go back to work, and the guilt causes a fresh wave of tears to surface.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cry, I didn't mean to dump this on you, I'm sorry," he blubbers and she chuckles, gently shushing him.

"Shima," she coos and Uruha forces himself to stop and take a breath. "It's okay. I'm your big sis, I'm always here for you," she promises softly. She's the only one who can say that and make Uruha believe her. He sniffles a bit and keeps wiping at his eyes, waiting for the tears to stop. "I miss you too. We all do. Are you on break right now?" He nods and hums in affirmation. "You should come home, visit us. Even if it's for a couple of days. You can stay with Hanami and I. Dai would love for you to visit." Uruha sniffles again and thinks about it.

It would be nice, to go home. To be with his mother, his sisters, his nephews. To get away from Tokyo, away from his apartment, away from his problems. It would be nice.

"I'll see what I can do," he says softly, nodding. He's still sniffling, but his heart has stopped hurting, and the tears have slowed a bit at the prospect. His body's ability to start and stop crying so quickly is kind of giving him a headache, though that's probably just from crying. "I'd like that, I'll look into my schedule." He can hear the grin in Asako's voice as she speaks.

"Thank you, Shima. I'll look forward to it. Now, do you want to tell me what's got you so emotional?" She asks, and her voice sounds like she's teasing, but it's gentle and Uruha wipes at his nose with his sleeve to get the last of the snot before he nods and speaks.

"I'm just really tired and on edge," he repeats for the eightieth time and she chuckles but lets him continue. "Things have been pretty hectic with the band, even though we're on break. Kai and I fought, and then I thought Reita and I were fighting only we weren't so he and I are fine now, but I didn't sleep last night so everything's pretty overwhelming." She hums in understanding.

"Do you want to talk about what happened between you and Kai?" She asks softly. Uruha nibbles on his bottom lip. He thinks against it, but it's also one of those things that he's been trying not to think about, and he knows the way to get it off his chest is to talk about it with someone who wasn't there.

But Asako is on her lunch break and she probably needs to get back to work soon, so he makes sure to make it quick.

"I went into subspace backstage before an encore," he says, bluntly, and his cheeks flush with how juvenile it sounds. Asako gasps and it kind of feels like a knife to the stomach, but he ignores it, knowing she doesn't mean it in a bad way.

"Oh my- are you okay?" She asks, her voice pitching a little in worry and he's quick to reassure her.

"Yeah, I'm fine, it was okay. Reita pulled me out of it." She gasps louder at that.

"Kouyou! That's worse-"

"I know, I know," he mumbles, feeling like a scolded child. "But there wasn't much else we could do." She makes a noise like she wants to say something but is holding herself back. Then she sighs.

"Well, have you at least dropped since then?" She asks, and Uruha flushes further.

"..no."

She gasps, but this time it's less of a shocked gasp and more of a _oh my god my baby brother is dying_ gasp which is ridiculous he's pretty fucked up but he's not _dying_. That's just overdramatic.

"My poor baby Shima! Well no wonder you're having trouble, your body didn't get a full drop so it's stuck in limbo." Uruha pulls his knees closer to himself. He knows she's not scolding him, but he feels like it and it's making him feel all kinds of terrible. He can feel the tears welling up again and he takes a deep breath to force them down.

"I'm sorry-" She shushes him again.

"You don't need to apologize, honey, it's not your fault," she coos. "You should drop yourself tonight though, or you're gonna get really bad, really fast," she said. "It's been like a week right?" He hums and nods again. "Yeah, honey, it's like a downhill slope, it gets exponentially worse the longer you wait."

"I've been trying, but it's not working," he says quietly, and here it is, the big moment when Asako, the sister that's been behind him through everything no matter what, realizes that he really is powerless.

"Have you been doing what I taught you?" She asks softly. He hums, his heart beating fast, waiting to hear the disappointment.

"Um, no. I've been, I've been trying to stop," he admits. "I've been trying to get over Kenta. I took off his collar."

She gasps again, but this time it's a happy gasp. Asako's got so many different types of gasps, and it was something Uruha used to make fun of her for when they were kids, even though he secretly found it to be pretty cute.

"Oh Shima!! I'm so proud of you!" She squeals and he’s taken aback.

She’s proud of him? He just admitted to being an absolute failure, unable to drop without his dead dom’s collar, and she’s sounding like he just got a gold in the olympics. He doesn’t quite know what to do with that.

She continues, unperturbed. "Well fucking hell, honey, no wonder this shit is happening to you, your world must have totally been flipped. Oh baby," she sighs softly. "I'm so proud of you. I can't imagine how hard that must have been."

He shrugs before remembering that she can't see him.

"So that's why I called," he says quietly, feeling completely thrown off guard. "I've been trying to drop without thinking of him, and it's not really working." She hums in thought, and he can hear the scraping of a chair. He assumes it's her standing and he checks his watch. Yup, it's been forty minutes. She probably has to get back to work. "I can call you back later-" He starts but she cuts him off.

"I'm my own boss, Shima. It's okay if I'm a little late. We'll talk as I walk," she promises and he nods. "Now, tell me what you have tried."

Uruha recounts to her the night before, even admitting that he had gone to a drop den and hated it. She chuckled at that.

"I'm not surprised. You're an emotional person, Ko. You need emotional attachment. Dropping with a stranger just doesn't feel right to you, and there's nothing wrong with that. That's probably a good thing, actually, cause it means it's harder to take advantage of you," she hums. "You said you didn't like listening to hypnosis tracks because it makes you feel as if there's a stranger in the room with you?"

"Yeah."

"That makes sense too," She says, and Uruha strains to hear her over the sounds of the city around her as she walks back to her studio. "Hmm, the only thing I can think of that you haven't tried is just imagining it. I mean, you obviously have imagined Kenta dropping you before, but you don't want to do that now if you're trying to get over him." Uruha nods, more for himself than for her. "Well, why don't you imagine someone else?" Uruha pauses.

"What do you mean?" He can't really fathom imagining anyone but Kenta.

"Like imagining another dom that you know. Or a famous dom, you know, your celebrity crush or something." She says, and her voice sounds way too perky and casual for this kind of topic. Uruha flushes.

"I wouldn't know who to imagine." She giggles at that.

"Really? There's no one at all. Not even some smoldering movie star? Or big handsome dom you looked up to as a kid?" She teases and Uruha makes a face.

"No," he says, and he's being honest. The first celebrity he thinks of is Sugizo and that’s… just weird. Imagining a celebrity that he's never met before probably wouldn't work, because his brain would know without a doubt that the dom's not actually there, and imagining a celebrity he's met face to face would just feel wrong.

"Okay," she hums, and Uruha can hear the elevator ding. She's back at her studio, probably. "What about imagining your ideal dom? Like you know, when you're fourteen and you don't have a crush on anyone in particular but you're horny and you're jacking off so you imagine this like perfect faceless body and it isn't one person in particular, but it's enough."

Uruha pauses to think. He guesses it makes sense. And it wouldn't be nearly as weird as listening to some stranger's voice, because at least the stranger would be from his imagination. In fact, the longer he thinks about it, the more it makes sense. He feels a little dumb for not thinking of it sooner.

"I could try that," he says, a little quietly and meekly, because he's embarrassed frankly, and it's weird to be having this talk with his sister. She's not phased. She lets out a little whoop.

"There we go! So we have a plan," She sings and he hums in affirmation, rubbing the dried tears from his face.

"Thank you Asako. I'm sorry for, you know, starting to uncontrollably cry," He winces, but he's smiling, because he really does feel better after talking to her.

"Anything for you, baby brother," she coos. "I have to get back to work soon. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah," he says softly. "Thank you."

"No, thank you for calling. I missed you. You're gonna come visit, yeah?" He nods and makes a sound of affirmation. "And you'll call me if the dropping doesn't work, yeah?" He promises. "Good. I have to go, but I love you, and I'm so proud of you. Call me when you figure out if you can come. Don't be a stranger."

"Love you too," he says softly, and then she hangs up.

God, he’s missed her.

Uruha places his phone down on the table and rubs his face with his hands. That phone call had been helpful, and cathartic, but he also feels swollen and gross after crying. Still, he's so fucking glad he called.

He sends a quick "Thank you." To Reita, before going to take a shower. After showering, he eats something and gets his shit together, excited for that night. He's skeptical, but his sister has never led him wrong, and he's desperate. It makes sense, and it doesn't sound awful, so he's eager to try it.

He's eager to drop. He’s eager to drop because he’s tired of being in this limbo of telling himself he’s okay and then realizing a moment later that he’s not. He just wants to let go, lose control, float a bit so he can pretend that everything is fine. He’s tired of having everything swirling in his mind, bombarding him with self hate and anxiety, with soul crushing emotions that make him feel exhausted, tired of cleaning to stop thinking.

He’s ready to lose himself.

When it’s time, he locks the doors and windows and curls up in bed, similar to how he had the night before. He’s excited, because his sister is a genius and if she says it will work, it will, but he’s also nervous as fuck because she’s not a genie and she can’t snap her fingers and make Uruha’s problems go away. And if this doesn’t work, he’s not sure what he’s going to do. This time, instead of sitting on top of the sheets, he crawls under the covers, cuddling up to his pillow and basking in the warmth as he closes his eyes.

There’s the soft pattering of summer rain on the window and it lulls Uruha into a state of relaxation quickly. The sub takes a deep breath, imagining strong arms around him, a body behind him, chest pressed against him. The faceless dom’s chest is broad and muscled, and Uruha can imagine his breath on his cheek, their bodies pressed against each other from the chest down to their ankles. It turns Uruha on a little bit.

Which is fine- sex and dropping don’t have to be mutually exclusive.

But Uruha’s priority _is_ dropping, so he moves his focus away from the dom’s body and to his voice, whispering soft praises in his ear. The dom’s voice is deep and soothing and he’s got a bit of an accent that reminds Uruha of home, and Uruha can’t help the soft noise of content that escapes from between his teeth. He knows this is fake, just his imagination, but his mind is diving into the vivid imagery all too eagerly, making Uruha feel just a bit fuzzy already. The dom knows exactly what to say to get Uruha keening (which makes sense because it’s all in his head but that’s not the point), telling him what a good boy he is, telling him that he’s okay, that what happened at the show wasn’t his fault, that what happened the day after wasn’t his fault, that he’s so sweet, so soft, so good for him, and Uruha _melts_. He can feel the dom’s hand trail up his chest, rubbing a finger along the dip of his collarbones (and really, it’s his own finger but whatever, he can pretend it’s not), before wrapping gently around his neck. A kiss brushes his ear, the hand applies light pressure, and then the dom commands him in a whisper, so soft but so firm.

_“Drop.”_

And then he’s falling, slipping straight into subspace.

It happens so fast it almost shocks Uruha out of the drop because _damn he's never dropped that fucking fast but damn it fucking worked_. His mind’s all hazy and he’s sure if he tried to speak it would come out slurred, his tongue heavy in his mouth. His body has sunken into the sheets, pliant and loose and he’s hard in his pants but he doesn’t care because this is what he’s been wanting for so long. The dom’s free hand moves up to caress his cheek, two fingers pressing against his bottom lip as he orders Uruha to suck on them and the sub complies eagerly, sucking them into his mouth and swirling his tongue. There’s calluses on these hands, on the pad of each finger, calluses that one would only get after years of playing a stringed instrument and Uruha lavs them with his tongue happily, eyes rolling back in euphoria.

_“That’s it, what a good boy you are,”_ the dom purrs, kissing his ear, then his temple, then down his jaw. He keeps praising Uruha softly, and the voice is starting to sound a bit familiar, but Uruha can’t quite place it. He doesn’t care.

The dom starts commanding him to do all sorts of things, little things, like moving his fingers, fluttering his lashes, letting out the soft whimper he had been holding in, and they’re all tiny, miniscule things, but just the mere action of following orders has Uruha in utter bliss. The weight of the world has been lifted off his shoulders, placed on the dom’s instead, and he doesn’t have to worry about anything, just listening to commands. All his insecurities, his worries, everything that had been tearing at his insides the past week are gone, flown out the window, and all Uruha has to do is listen to his dom. He doesn't have to worry anymore, his dom will take care of him. It’s heaven.

He doesn’t know how long he lays there, sucking on the dom’s fingers, pressing kitten kisses along the palm of his hand, breathing in his scent and basking in his attention. It’s probably been less than an hour, but Uruha’s feeling so fuzzy and up in the clouds, it could have been a whole day and he wouldn’t have noticed.

_“Look at me, baby.”_

Uruha whines. He’s found the perfect position, his body doesn’t want to move, all tingly and warm with relaxation and the tiniest bit of arousal. But the dom gave him command, and he finds his limbs moving without his permission, turning him around slowly in the dom’s hold until they’re facing one another, eyes meeting. Uruha takes in the face of the dom he’s imagined, and his heart stutters.

Deep brown eyes, blonde hair, and a jawline that could cut diamond, Uruha looks into the eyes of a face he’s known and loved for over twenty years.

“Akira,” he breathes, and he would be in shock if he wasn’t so deep into the drop, so dazed and bleary.

In fact, everything feels so good right now, so soft and quiet, that all Uruha can feel is quiet acceptance. Now he knows why the voice had sounded so familiar, why the fingers had calluses, why he had felt so fucking safe, right from the beginning. 

Reita smiles at him, a hand gently stroking his cheek as he whispers, _“Good boy,”_ and then leans in, kissing him softly.

Uruha thought following Reita’s orders had felt like heaven, but it was nothing compared to this.

The sub lets out a soft mewl against Reita’s lips, kissing back as eagerly as one can when their body feels like molasses, and then Reita’s chuckling, gently nipping at his bottom lip.

_“Easy baby,”_ He murmurs, giving him a gentle butterfly kiss. Uruha preens. _“I’m not going anywhere.”_ And then they’re kissing again, pressed against one another, Uruha’s fingers curled into Reita’s t-shirt. The dom has a hand wrapped around Uruha’s neck again and the other hand is on his hip, clutching him possessively and it feels so fucking nice, Uruha could cum right there. He presses closer to Reita, opening his mouth to allow Reita’s tongue in and he can’t help the whimpers that he breathes into Reita’s mouth. The dom’s hand on his hip moves south, gently gripping his thigh and pulling it over his own hip, pushing a leg between Uruha’s so the sub’s crotch is pressed to Reita’s muscled thigh, and Uruha subconsciously starts to grind against him, pleasure coursing through his veins.  

Fuck, it feels so fucking good.

The sounds escaping his lips are straight up embarrassing but he doesn’t have the focus to care as Reita gently guides his hips. _“That’s it baby,”_ he purrs. _“What a good boy, so needy, so beautiful and spacey for me.”_ Reita’s words are sending him to the edge faster than the actual grinding is, and Uruha should be embarrassed that he’s literally humping Reita’s thigh but all he feels is white hot, hazy pleasure tightening in his belly.

A little voice in the back of his head reminds him that this isn’t real, Reita isn’t really here and he isn’t really holding him, and he’s really just curled up, humping his pillow and imagining the dom, but Uruha can’t be bothered to care. It feels so good, so good that Uruha’s speeding up, pressing against Reita harder, whimpering his name like a prayer, and when he reaches the edge, Reita leans close, breath fanning his cheek.

_“Cum.”_

The order sends him spiraling, shivering and crying out as he cums, soiling his boxers and Reita’s pants. His body’s shaking and it feels so fucking good to have Reita gently stroking his side, petting his hair, guiding him through the aftershocks and thanking him, telling him what a good boy he is, telling him how beautiful he’d looked cumming. Uruha whines for a kiss when the aftershocks start to subside and Reita grants it to him with a soft chuckle. The kiss is a little weak, a little soft, because Uruha’s too busy trying to catch his breath than actually kiss back, but it feels nice and _fuck._

He’s so _fucking_ happy.

His body is all warm and tingly, and his heart is beating with such fondness that it almost hurts, and he feels safe and loved, and finally his mind is quiet.

It’s so _fucking_ nice.

_“That’s it,”_ Reita murmurs, gently brushing Uruha’s hair away from his forehead and kissing his nose. _“You’ve been such a good boy for me tonight, Uru.”_ Uruha positively beams with pride, his heart bursting. He made his dom happy, he was a good boy, he’s not fucking useless. _“How are you feeling baby? You all spacey?”_ Uruha nods the best he can. His head feels heavy and slow. _“That’s okay,”_ his dom coos, kissing his forehead. _“Get some sleep now,”_ he commands, and all Uruha can do is mumble a slurred, “Thank you,” before he’s out like a light.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might notice I added a chapter to the total chapter count... I got halfway through writing this chapter and then realized it was an absolute monster, so I split them up into two parts so I could update more on time. Thank you for all your comments! Hope you enjoy! <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed

It's on the train to Kanagawa that it happens.

Uruha's feeling good. He had experienced possibly the best solo drop of his life, he had slept a full fourteen hours, and now he's on the way to see his family. 

After texting Reita to say he was going away for a bit and making Ruki promise to water his dear plants, Uruha had packed his bags, booked his train ticket, and left as soon as possible. He only has a week left of vacation before the band reconvenes in the studio, and it's time for him to get away. Asako is right, it'll be good for him to get away, refocus and rejuvenate himself. He'll always love Tokyo, but it had always had an overwhelming dom atmosphere. Uruha was excited to go home, somewhere a little more balanced. Especially now that he had finally dropped. He needed to reset his system completely and what better way than returning to his roots?

The dropping experience had been... interesting, to say the least. He had woken the next morning blissed out of his mind. The aches that had been present in his heart, his head, and his bones for the past week were gone, and instead he felt light, happy, and alive. 

Over breakfast, the details had slowly came back to him. The drop had been so incredibly vivid, it blew Uruha's mind. He had flushed as he remembered Reita's embrace, the way the dom had held him, had stroked his hair, had guided his hips and whispered soft words into his ears. Then he had felt a bit sick. 

It makes sense that his sub had imagined Reita, given that Reita was the last dom to drop him. Reita was the dom that had guided him through Kenta's passing, the dom who checked up on him every morning, the dom that had been with him for his whole life. 

If Uruha has to have an emotional connection to drop, it makes sense that his subconscious would imagine the dom he trusted the most.

What doesn't make sense is the sex.

To be quite honest, Uruha's admired Reita's body in less than innocent ways before. How could he not? They had grown up together. They had watched each other grow from scrawny, clumsy brats to muscled, poised men and  _damn._

Reita had grown.

Uruha has caught himself staring more than once.

But at the time, he had passed it off as adolescent curiosity. This time, that's not possible.

Uruha can't remember ever cumming so hard in his life. It hadn't even been proper sex, just dry humping a pillow. He could try to chalk it up to being in subspace but really, that's no excuse, and when he thinks back on it, he can't deny that it had been hot as fuck. Reita had been hot as fuck, gripping his hips and staring at him with bedroom eyes, ordering him around in that deep, grumbling, sexy as hell voice, and  _fuck_ , thinking about it now is kind of making him hard again and he really needs to stop for so many reasons (the most prevalent being he's on the fucking train, in fucking public). Uruha has spent the last 13 hours trying to come up with some excuse for what had happened, but it's time for him to face the facts.

He got off, really fucking hard, to imagining himself humping his best friend's thigh.

And it's ironic, really, because just as things are finally starting to settle down, when Uruha's finally starting to relax, this smacks him in the fucking face and says, "Not today!" 

It's on the train to Kanagawa that Uruha realizes he may or may not be attracted to his best friend, and it makes him feel  _terrible._

 

 

It's also on the train to Kanagawa that Uruha makes the most difficult decision of his life. And regrets it. 

In retrospect, it's probably (definitely) not the most difficult decision of his life, but damn if it doesn't feel like it. 

Uruha once said in an interview that one of his favorite things about Reita is that on the two hour drive home, he was completely silent. Uruha loves his best friend. He loves Reita's voice. He loves to hear the blonde laugh. He could listen to Reita talk for hours over absolutely nothing. But at the same time, Uruha doesn't like a lot of noise, not when he's traveling. It makes things go too slowly. When it's quiet, he can close his eyes, sink into his thoughts, daydream about nothing, and when he opens his eyes, the trip is over, just like that. 

It's why he doesn't mind traveling alone, why he always brings a pair of headphones, and why he always,  _always_ , keeps to himself. No matter what. 

About twenty minutes into the bullet train ride to Kanagawa, a couple gets on the train that are obviously tense. The car is pretty empty, just Uruha and a few other people, and Uruha can feel himself get tense in his seat, praying they don't sit near him. He's chosen a pretty secluded section of the car and he wants to keep it that way. 

His prayers go unanswered. The couple sits across the aisle from him, evidently seething at one another. Uruha takes out his book to read, hoping he can ignore them, but it proves futile. For the first ten minutes after the train pulls away from the station, they're quiet. But Uruha's quickly pulled from his reading when they start to whisper heatedly with one another. He spares a glance over and his stomach churns. 

The dom is crowding the sub against the window, whispering angrily to him. The sub is staring at his lap and it's obvious he's uncomfortable. If Uruha tries, he can easily make out what the dom is saying, and he really wishes he couldn't.

"What the fuck do you mean, he came onto you?" the dom growls. "Bullshit excuse, you were batting your eyes and acting so coy and shit like a little slut." The sub flinches at her words, hands clenched in his lap and eyes squeezed shut. He opens his mouth, evidently to deny what she's saying, but she doesn't let him. "Don't fucking test me, bitch. You're powerless against me and you fucking know it. I don't ever want to see you fucking around like that again." 

"I wasn't-" He starts and Uruha has to cover his mouth to stifle a soft whimper as the dom leans over and lets out a warning snarl. It's not loud enough to alert anyone, but it echoes through the car, and he's sure every sub in the vicinity can feel it in their bones. Uruha's heart is beating fast in his chest and he feels sick as he watches, but he can't move. 

The sub flinches, and what makes Uruha hurt the most for him is that he doesn't look surprised by her actions.

"Don't talk back." Her voice has a clear command in it that has even Uruha's inner sub shriveling up and his throat closing. The sub bows his head further. "Don't try to make any fucking excuses. The dom wasn't at fault. He can't help his instincts if you're sitting there all demure like a dumb little sub. It's your job to keep a hold on your fucking emotions, you got that? It's your job to not act like such a needy fucking sub. You got that?" She growls. He nods quickly, but it's not enough for her. She scoffs, pulling away and staring at him with such contempt it makes Uruha squirm.

"Fucking useless sub," she spits. "Can't do fucking anything right."  The dom looks away but Uruha can see in the tenseness of her body that she's just waiting for the sub to do something, anything, that will give her an excuse to go off on him again. Uruha quickly looks back at his book.

He doesn't want to be caught staring and have the dom go off on him too. It's obvious that the woman is a loose canon. There's still silence, and for a moment Uruha thinks it's calmed down, and he lets himself calm down as well. He hadn't even realized how fast his heart had been beating, but as he allows it to slow, Uruha feels himself release a breath as well. He can still feel the after-effects of the dom's command and it's not for another thirty seconds that he feels the lump in his throat ease.

Being a sub means always being aware of how vulnerable you are, how weak you are, and Uruha is not going to put himself in danger. Not now. Besides, to an extent, what the dom had said was true. He knows that and the sub knows that, so what's he supposed to do anyways?

Uruha goes back to reading his book, but he keeps an eye on the couple in case he needs to bolt. He's not getting caught up in some domestic struggle today, and he can't get involved in something and risk it landing in the papers. He's already wearing sunglasses and a face mask (partially to keep anonymity and partially because his face still feels swollen from crying the day before), but he's not totally unrecognizable. If he jumps in and makes a big deal, someone's going to whip out their phone and post it online and then it'll be a whole thing.

So he's not getting involved. If he has to change cars, he will.

Things are quiet for another hour and Uruha can almost believe that the worst is over. Until the sub starts speaking quietly and shit, Uruha can feel the anger radiating off the dom in waves. His own heart starts pounding again, and he tries his best to keep reading, but as the dom cuts the sub off, a hand shooting out to wrap around his throat, Uruha can't help but watch, eyes wide.

"You are nothing without me," she snarls. "Nothing. You got it?" He nods quickly, eyes wide, and deep in his gut, Uruha can feel horror swirling. He's going to puke. Or he would, if he had the power to do anything but stare in shock.

The dom catches him staring, turning to glare at him. "What are you staring at?" she spits, and no, now Uruha is  _definitely_ going to puke. His breath catches in his throat and suddenly he's faced with a very dangerous decision.

He could speak up, tell her to stop terrifying the poor sub, or he could look away and let them be.

The sub meets his gaze, eyes wide and pleading, and Uruha's heart hurts for him.

But technically, the dom isn't doing anything wrong. What she's saying is true. Subs are nothing without their doms. It's what Uruha was taught as a kid, it's what he's rediscovered in the past couple of weeks, and he's not about to start questioning shit all over again.

It's not his place to get involved. So he doesn't.

Uruha forces himself to look away, hurriedly putting on his headphones. Before he can get his music to play, he hears the dom's final words to the sub.

"That's right. See that's a good little sub, minding his own fucking business. He knows his place. That's a sub I'd be proud to have," she says smugly, and Uruha hates the spark of pride that erupts in his chest at the words. 

Uruha spends the rest of the train ride with his eyes closed and his music loud, wondering if he should get up and go to the bathroom to puke up his lunch, or if he should stay here and pretend this all never happened. It's the longest forty minutes of life. He feels exhausted by the end of it, and all he wants to do is curl up in bed and sleep for a thousand years.

When he steps off the train, toting his suitcase behind him, he makes sure to move far away from the couple who are moving in the opposite direction. When they're out of sight, he can finally feel the knots in his chest loosening and falling away.

The station isn't too busy as Uruha follows the small crowd to the exit. When he makes it outside, he starts looking around for his sister and her car. Within a few minutes, he finds he doesn't have to bother. 

"OJIIIIIIII!" A tiny figure barrels into him, effectively taking out his kneecaps.  _I'm never gonna walk again-_ he thinks as his knees buckle. But then joy fills his chest and he can't help the smile that comes over his face as his nephew wraps his arms around his legs and holds on tight. 

"Ah!" He laughs, reaching down to gently pry the boy's arms off him. "Hey Dai~" he coos, scooping him up instead. Daisuke's gotten bigger (and heavier) since the last time Uruha saw him. He feels a little guilty for not visiting more often, but then Daisuke is reaching up and squishing his cheeks together happily.

"I missed you, Oji!" He says and Uruha gently ruffles his hair with his free hand. 

"I missed you too Dai. You got bigger." Daisuke puffs his chest out.

"I did! Soon I'll be almost as big as you!" he huffs and Uruha laughs.

"I'm sure you will," he hums. "Where are your mothers?" Daisuke points in the direction he came from. Uruha switches Daisuke to his left hip so he can grab his suitcase with his right hand as he starts to walk in that direction.

He hadn't known it was possible, but his smile broadens further when he spots his sister and her wife waiting by the gates. Asako's bouncing on the heels of her feet and a smile is stretched over her lips as well. Uruha wonders if his smile is as blinding as hers.

When he reaches them he greets Hanami before handing Dai over to her to hug his sister. She squeezes him tightly, stretching onto her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. 

"Welcome home, baby brother," she hums happily and for the first time since that couple had walked onto the train, Uruha can breathe. 

It's good to be home. 

 

* * *

 

 He was stupid to think the paradise would last. 

After unpacking in their guest room, Uruha stations himself in the kitchen to help cook dinner while Hanami gives Daisuke a bath. There are plans to meet up with the rest of his family tomorrow, but for tonight it's just the four of them. It's quiet. Uruha likes that. 

Asako tells Uruha about her weekend while they cook, not wanting to distract him with more serious talk. Uruha hasn't cooked real food for a while, being either too busy or too depressed to do anything other than reheat takeout and eat microwave meals. It's refreshing to actually cook something for once. When Dai is done with his bath, Hanami sets him up in front of the tv and comes out to the kitchen, wrapping her arms around her wife's waist and joining in on the conversation.

"So how was your trip down?" Asako hums and Hanami laughs.

"You haven't asked him that yet? Isn't that the standard "family is visiting" conversation starter?" The dom teases and Asako slaps her lightly. 

"Hush," she giggles. "We were talking about other things." Uruha chuckles at the two of them. They're cute, and absolutely perfect for one another. Part of Uruha can't help but feel a little bit jealous.

"It was fine," he hums, turning his attention back to the meat he's cooking. Part of him says not to mention the couple, but it slips out from between his lips before he can stop it. He's never been able to keep anything from Asako. "There was a bit of a disturbance on the train though."

"A disturbance?" Asako prompts, stealing bits of the veggies he had cut earlier. Hanami gently slaps her hand away from the bowl, but she ignores her. 

"Just a couple fighting. Nothing big." Uruha shrugs, trying to play it down. Thinking back, it really hadn't been that much of a big deal. Like he had told himself a million times, the dom had been right, and it hadn't been his place to intervene. He's glad now that he hadn't.

"Oooh, couple drama," Hanami giggles. "Do tell~" It's Asako's turn now to gently slap her.

"What a child," she teases and Hanami winks at her. 

"You love it. So spill the tea, Shima!"

Uruha bites his lip, turning to the stove so they won't see his face and see how affected his had been by it. It was kind of embarrassing the way he had let his emotions get the better of him, especially when the dom really hadn't been saying anything wrong. "I guess the sub had let another dom flirt with him or something, so his dom was pretty pissed. Just standard stuff, going on about a sub's role and shit like that." 

Hanami's snort of disgust surprises him more than Asako's gasp. 

"Agh, disgusting," Hanami grumbles, looking disgruntled. "Let me guess, they were going off about the sub belonging to them and shit? Or being like useless without them?" She snorts again, shaking her head. "Fucking toxic doms," she trails off, grumbling to herself. Uruha pauses in surprise but doesn't look back, focusing on the food. He can hear Asako appeasing Hanami gently. 

"Babe, don't work yourself up," she hums. "You don't know them, you'll probably never see them, there's nothing you can do."

"I know, I just hate hearing about dumb doms who think they're the shit and can treat subs however they want just because we have a semblance of control over them. And the poor subs, who develop fucking inferiority complexes because of it, think they deserve to be treated like that, or think it's their fault their dom is a complete asshole! It's bullshit!" 

Uruha starts stirring the meat again, just to give himself something to do while he listens.

"It breaks my heart. All these subs thinking they're worthless and thinking they have to have a dom to survive and shit like that," she mumbles and Uruha can hear the heartbreak in her voice. It makes his hand pause, and he has to force himself to keep stirring. If he pauses, he might start actually considering her words, and boy if that wouldn't turn everything on it's fucking head. 

Asako gently places her hand on Hanami's shoulder, rubbing it. "Calm down babe. Dai is in the other room, he'll hear you swearing." The firmness in her voice tells both Hanami and him that the conversation is over, but Uruha lingers on Hanami's words, the way her seemingly counterintuitive opinion had flowed from between her lips with such ease, such surety, like everything they had been taught by society was wrong and  _she just knew it without a doubt._ Uruha wonders what it would be like to be that certain of the truth.

He grabs a plate and starts spooning the meat onto it. It's probably a little overdone by now from all the stirring, but it's fine. "Besides, we have something more important to talk about," Asako adds and Uruha turns to find her with a knowing smirk on her lips. "Shima~" 

Apprehension fills Uruha's chest. "What?" 

"Did you get to drop?" Asako asks excitedly. Uruha feels a blush spread from the tips of his ears to his neck but it's accompanied by a sick twisting in his gut. Asako's grin widens as she spots the flush. "You did! Oh Shima, I'm so proud!" She wiggles happily and Hanami laughs.

"I hope you don't mind, Kouyou, Asako told me everything," The dom says quietly and Uruha shoots her a forced smile. 

"It's fine. It's not like I didn't expect that," he teases to save face and it must work because she winks back. 

"Spill!" Asako squeals, not amused by Hanami and Uruha's deviation from topic. Uruha flushes harder. 

"There's nothing to spill," he hums. "I dropped, simple as that." Asako tuts, shaking her head. 

"You're blushing! There's definitely something to spill. What did you imagine?" She teases. Uruha wonders if there's any way he can get out of this, but both of them are looking at him with  _that look_ and Uruha feels cornered. He looks down at the food he's been half-heartedly preparing. 

"Reita," he mumbles so they can't hear him. The name feels dirty on his tongue. He turns, starting to clean the stove so they can't see him turn absolutely beet red. 

"What? Shima~ What was that?" Asako giggles and he groans.

"Reita-" he says, even quieter, and this time it's Hanami's turn to lean close and snicker. 

"Sorry, repeat that?"

Uruha clenches his teeth, feeling embarrassed and irritated. "I imagined Reita!" He grits out, and the room feels way too hot all of a sudden. 

There's a moment of silence before both women start cooing and giggling. "Aww Shima!" Asako coos. "That's so cute!" Uruha flushes harder and turns to face them finally. Hanami kind of looks like she's tearing up. Uruha isn't sure why they seem so pleased by his confession. 

"That's so fucking cute! Best friend dropping- Ugg!" She whines, wiping at her eyes. Asako's laughing at her and she pouts. "Don't make fun of me! Platonic shit like this always makes me cry." Uruha bites his lip, grimacing at the irony. He wonders what she would say if she knew just how not platonic it had been. He can easily imagine the look of disgust. 

Asako puts her chin in the palm of her hand, staring at Uruha with a happy look. 'What happened to not wanting to imagine someone you know?" She hums and Uruha knows that she's just teasing him, but he still feels embarrassment bubble in his gut. 

"I actually didn't mean to. It just happened," he admits and Asako screeches happily. Hanami, who's right next to her, flinches and winces. 

"It just happened? So it was like a subconscious thing?" Hanami prompts when she's done going deaf, and Uruha spares a look at her. He can hear the suggestiveness in her voice. He knows what she's getting at, what everyone in the room is thinking. He can't read her expression so he puts his palms on the counter to brace himself and decides to ask the question that's been on his mind (and making him sick) since he woke that morning. 

"Asako..." he forces the words out. Asako knows him better than anyone, (maybe not better than Reita, but it's not like he's gonna ask  _him_ this question), and has always been the first one to notice if Uruha has a crush. If anyone can answer this for him, it's her. "Do you think I like Reita?" 

Asako finally has the sense to sober up and take Uruha's question more seriously, but she still has a knowing smile on her lips. "I think you already know the answer to that."

He bites his lip against the frustration. He does know the answer, he just wants her to say it. It's childish. Uruha nods and looks away to get a hold on his beating heart.

Then he swallows thickly, another question plaguing his mind. "Do you think... do you think it's too fast?"

Both women's expressions turn more sympathetic. Asako reaches over and gently holds Uruha's hand.

"Shima. It's okay to like someone else. You're not betraying Kenta." 

He feels guilt pool in his belly despite her words. "I know but- it's only been a year. I mean, I said I was trying to  move on but I didn't mean literally jumping into someone else's bed." 

"You're not jumping into bed with a stranger like some rebound. You're just developing feelings for someone else. It's okay, Kouyou," Hanami says with a little shrug. Uruha gives her an apprehensive look but Asako diverts his gaze to her when she squeezes his hand again.

"I think it's time." 

A voice in the back of his brain agrees. A voice in the front of his brain does not. The voice in the front of his brain screams that he's betraying his dom, that he's a stupid, selfish, faithless little bitch. The voice in the front of his brain screams that he didn't deserve Kenta, and he certainly doesn't deserve Reita. 

There's a look in Asako's eyes that says she can tell exactly what's going on in his head. She opens her mouth but then Daisuke's running into the room, screaming that he's hungry and the moment's gone. Uruha pulls away and schools his expression for his nephew.

"Dinner's ready," he hums, picking up the plates of food and bringing them out to the dining table. Asako scoops Daisuke up.

"Your uncle cooked dinner, Dai. What do you say to him?" She hums and Uruha chuckles as the boy screams,

"Thank you Oji!" At the top of his lungs. Uruha kisses the top of his head. 

"You're welcome Dai," he hums as everyone sits down to eat.

Dai talks about his first grade class field trip as they eat and Uruha makes sure to nod, half-listen, and ask prompting questions, but his mind is somewhere else. On someone else, to be more clear. Asako and Hanami must be able to tell because as soon as Dai's speech starts to slur and he starts falling asleep in his rice, Hanami's scooping him up and taking him off to bed. It's clear that she's leaving to give the siblings some time to talk. But Uruha doesn't really want to talk. He kind of just wants to stew in his own emotions, so he stands and starts gathering dishes before Asako can even open her mouth.

"I'll do the dishes, don't worry about it," he hums as he carries them back into the kitchen and Asako sighs, following him.

"Shima... Talk to me," She begs softly and Uruha bites his lip. It's not fair that she's always been so perceptive to his emotions. 

"About what?" he lies, turning on the faucet and beginning to wash the dishes. Asako starts putting the leftovers in the fridge, probably to give her something to do so that Uruha doesn't feel too interrogated. It doesn't really work, but Uruha appreciates the sentiment. 

"You got so quiet, I can tell you're pretty tripped up over this whole Reita thing. You know, it's okay to have feelings for someone new. It's healthy, even." Uruha feels a sigh build in his chest and he struggles to contain it. He's thankful that Hanami has left the room; while Uruha isn't planning on bearing his soul completely, he does feel a little bit more loose-tongued when he's speaking to only Asako. 

"I feel like I'm betraying him-"

"You're not." Asako cuts him off, her voice firm. "Kenta loved you, Kouyou. He loved you so fucking much-" Uruha can feel a tightening in his chest, a lump in his throat, and he starts scrubbing the plates to keep his emotions under wraps. "-He would want you to be happy." 

"I am happy-" he says, but the words sound fake even to his own ears. 

"You're not and anyone can see that." This time her voice trembles and Uruha has to shut his eyes to keep back tears. He hates the thought of hurting her.

Uruha doesn't have a response to that, so he just keeps cleaning. Asako closes the fridge with a bang and Uruha can tell she's upset. 

"You think if I died, I would expect Hanami to just live alone for the rest of her life? You think I wouldn't want her to move on?" Her voice has raised just a bit, trembling with emotion and a little bit of anger, and Uruha can feel a bit of anger bubbling in his chest as well. It's not at her but it's there, and he closes his eyes against the tears threatening to fall.

"You don't understand-" He tries to keep his voice controlled but she doesn't let him continue. 

"No I don't! I don't understand why you're just standing there, forcing yourself to suffer like some fucked up attempt at self-punishment!" 

The words ring through the kitchen and Uruha silently curses the sniffle he accidentally lets out. He takes a moment, willing the tears away, willing the lump in his throat away, willing the pain in his chest,  _away._ He can hear Asako behind him, breathing labored from her outburst, and he can imagine her standing there, tears on her cheeks (she's always been a pretty crier, meanwhile he and Maaya were tied for the family title of ugly crier). He can feel the anger in her gaze and hurt in her expression and it makes a whole new wave of tears force their way up. Uruha forces them down again.

When he feels like he can breathe again, he speaks, his voice raw. "I don't deserve him." He's not sure if he means Kenta or Reita.

"Why?" It's more obvious that she's crying now and Uruha has to physically restrain himself from caving. He rinses a plate off, clenching his free hand tightly so his nails dig into his palm and remind him not to cave.

"I just don't." 

"That's bullshit and you know it!" She exclaims, a hiccuped sob tearing itself from her throat and he flinches at the sound.

He doesn't know how to explain it, not to her. How can he explain that he's a terrible sub, useless to a dom, undeserving of one? How can he explain that everything Reita deserves in a relationship, Uruha can't give him? How can he explain his inadequacy to the one person in his family who's always seen him as enough?

The answer is that he can't. So Uruha takes a deep breath, washes his hands off, and starts drying the dishes in the dish rack. He wants to go back to how things were three hours ago, when everyone was smiling and joking around. Asako lets out another sob from behind him. 

"Shima, you don't deserve  _this!_ This loneliness, this heartbreak, this-this self punishment!" She begs, but Uruha knows she's wrong. "Please Shima-" She makes an ugly, strangled sound in the back of her throat and Uruha closes his eyes, feels the tears pressing against the back of his eyelids. "You deserve Reita."

Uruha knows he should just cave, agree with her to appease her for the night, to make her feel better, to help her sleep. But his tongue won't move, his throat won't open, his lips won't part to say the words. Instead he mumbles,

"I don't."

She makes another strangled sobbing sound that makes Uruha's heart rip itself in two. Her next words are worse.

"You need fucking help-" She cries and Uruha flinches. Suddenly his mind is ripping itself in two as well, half of him screaming at the audacity of her words, as if she understands what he's been through, as if she has the fucking right to tell him that his truth is wrong, while the other half of him feels like it's falling, falling into despair as he manages to disappoint the last person that believed in him. He hid the truth from Asako for so long- too long, and now she sees the true Takashima Kouyou. And she's right. He's a mess. 

She doesn't notice his internal struggle. Instead she lets out a soft sob, turns and and walks out of the room. Uruha waits until he hears her bedroom door shut to let his tears fall.

 

* * *

Asako's never lied to him. 

That's what Uruha reminds himself later that night as he lays in bed and stares at the ceiling. 

She's never lied to him. She's said mean things, she's yelled at him, whined at him, cried to him, called him names when she's angry, but she's never, not once in her life, lied to him. 

Which means - even if she's wrong - she truly believes what she's saying.

She truly believes Uruha deserves to be happy.

And she truly believes that he needs help.

Uruha isn't so sure.

But after hearing her cry like that, he can't just brush it off. She had sounded so sad, so hurt, so angry, and he knows it hadn't been at him. It had been for him, but that somehow makes it worse. He may have resigned himself to his fate, but she was still so ready to fight for him.

Or at least, she had been, before he had bared himself and pushed her away.

Hearing her cry for him had been the most awful thing Uruha had ever heard in his whole life.

Uruha’s thoughts stray to the train ride, to the couple, to Hanami’s words- how she had scoffed in disgust and called the dom “toxic”, how Uruha had watched the dom choke the sub and had allowed the toxic, abusive behavior because his fucked up brain had told him to run with his tail between his legs. Guilt makes the tears well up in his eyes all over again. 

Which is why, at ten o'clock in the dead of night, Uruha takes out his phone and dials the therapist's number. 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed

_"How did you get here?"_

_Uruha doesn't understand the question._

_"What do you mean? I-I mean, I drove-" He starts and she chuckles._

_"No, Takashima-san. How did you get here? Why did you come see me?" the therapist hums._

_"...My sister said I needed help. My best friend-" The title feels slimy on his lips. "-He gave me your number."_

_"And do you agree with your sister?"_

_Uruha can only shrug._

 

* * *

  

Uruha's drunk.

Really fucking drunk.

He's not sure how he reached this point. Things are fine with Asako again. They had made up the following morning over breakfast as Uruha fed bits of fried egg and rice to Daisuke, who was sitting in his lap. She had apologized for overreacting and Uruha had apologized for being stubborn. Then he had admitted that he had called a therapist the night before, and Asako's eyes lit up. Hanami had ruffled his hair as she walked past, giving him a wink, and as Asako scooped Dai up and started dancing around the kitchen happily, Uruha knew he had made the right choice.

 

* * *

 

  _"You're doing this for your sister?"_

_"...She told me I needed help. I don't exactly agree with her but... she's always been the one that believed in me. I don't want to hurt her."_

_"Is she happy that you're here?"_

_Uruha gives her a small smile and nods. "She's over the moon."_

_"And what about you?"_

_Uruha's stomach churns and he can't meet her gaze._

_"I'm happy that she's happy."_

 

* * *

  

He's back in Tokyo and meetings have started back up for the band. They're in the beginning stages of working on a new album and Uruha's excited for the first time in a while. He and Reita are seeing one another more often and admittedly, it's been a little weird. Uruha's walking on eggshells, trying to keep his feelings on the down-low, while at the same time trying not to be obvious, and he's worried his attempts at being sneaky are only making things worse. But it doesn't matter.

He, Kai, and Ruki are all good now.

Things are good.

* * *

 

_"How are things?"_

_Uruha smiles. "They're good."_

_"Care to share?"_

_He does. It feels good to lay it all out; makes it feel more real. It makes the happiness seem more tangible. The therapist doesn't seem to share his feelings on the matter. She levels him with a stare over the rim of her glasses. He feels naked._

_"When you say things are good, do you actually mean good? Or do you mean manageable?"_

_Uruha doesn't know what to say to that._

 

* * *

 

Uruha's been writing more often. In the past, they've all brought songs to the table and Ruki was the one that brought the most. But lately, Uruha's been churning out piece after piece. He thinks it's just because he's more relaxed and more focused. His therapist thinks the opposite.

* * *

  

_"I think it's good that you're writing so often. You're very emotional right now. It's good for you to have some sort of emotional outlet."_

_"I'm not emotional. Things are just good right now," he finds himself shooting back. He's not sure why he's so eager to deny that things aren't brilliant. If there's anyone he can admit to that things suck, it's her._

_She nods and writes something down._

_Sometimes, Uruha wishes he could see her notes._

 

* * *

  

He's been writing more often and the others think it's great. He thinks he might have more songs on this album than ever before. Ruki jokes about being jealous but Uruha knows he's just teasing. It makes him feel good, the teasing. It makes him feel like everything is alright between them again.

 

* * *

_"Sometimes I'm jealous of him," Uruha admits._

_"Of Takanori?" The therapist scribbles on her pad. Uruha nods._

_"It must be nice, being a switch."_

_"Why do you say that?" She's watching him again and it makes Uruha squirm. He wonders if he'll ever get used to that._

_"Well, he doesn't have to deal with the bullshit of being a sub."_

_"Bullshit?"_

_Uruha resists the urge to roll his eyes. Why does she have to question everything he says? He humors her anyways._

_"You know, the hormones, the sub dropping, the commands. They don't have to deal with those."_

_"And you don't want to have those?"_

_Uruha makes a face._

_"Why would I want to?"_

 

* * *

  

It's nice to be in the studio again. It's become a second home to him over the years, somewhere he can be with his second family and just create.

He's taken to smoking on the balcony with the others again and even though Reita gives him the side eye when he does so, really, the dom can't say anything.

Uruha's going to therapy, like he wanted. Besides, it's not often that he smokes. He still hasn't made it all the way through the first box he had bought the night before he went to the drop den. It's just something to relax with once in a while.

 

* * *

 

_"You mentioned you started smoking again. Can you tell me why?"_

_Uruha shrugs. "It's no big deal. I don't really have a reason for starting again." His therapist doesn't respond, just watches him. He feels the need to fill the silence. "Akira doesn't like it."_

_"He doesn't? Why not?"_

_Uruha shrugs. "He used to smoke, we quit together. I think he's just upset that I started again.”_

_There's a pause. Uruha's getting used to that too. She always speaks a moment too late, like she think that if she waits a minute, Uruha's going to have a big revelation and figure everything out._

_"Do you think maybe he's worried about you?"_

_Her question makes him pause. They also make him a little bit uncomfortable, because now that she says it, it's kind of true. Akira probably is. Uruha feels guilt build in his throat. She stares at him._

_"Don't you usually write all this stuff down?" He blurts, because suddenly the conversation is far too serious. She chuckles like she had expected the diversion._

_"You're not a test-subject, Takashima-san. I take notes during the first few sessions while I'm still getting to know you."_

_"And now?"_

_"I think I know you pretty well."_

 

* * *

 

It also helps keep him from drinking too much. Which he's had the biggest itch for, ever since he returned from Kanagawa and starting realizing just how fucking perfect Reita is. Every time Reita so much as looks at him, he gets a squirmy feeling in his stomach because _it's so not fair that Reita is so fucking hot_ . It's not fair that he's so talented, so sweet and caring, so literally everything Uruha has been looking for in a dom and _how the fuck did he take so long to notice?_

 

* * *

 

_"Akira is your best friend?"_

_Uruha nods. He doesn't want to talk about Reita right now, but he's been putting it off and she can tell. Any longer and it will be suspicious. "We've known each other since we were kids."_

_"He's the one that gave you my number?"_

_Uruha nods._

_"So he thought you might need help as well?"_

_Uruha hesitates. "He... was worried about some of the things that I said to him."_

_"Would you like to share them?"_

_Uruha levels her with his gaze. He can't tell if it's a question or not._

_"Just stuff about being a sub. It wasn't anything bad, he just doesn't understand as a dom._

_"Understand what?"_

_"Why I hate being a sub."_

 

* * *

 

Uruha's been doing his best to hide his feelings for Reita, but he's never been the best liar. He's twitchy, quiet, awkward around the dom. It makes him feel sick, lying to Reita, lying to his best friend. But his feelings for him make him feel sicker.

He's been having to drop himself almost every other night. He thought he might not have to worry about it anymore, not after the first vivid drop, but he’s found himself on edge almost every moment of every day. The only bit of reprieve is imagining Reita's fingers on his chin, guiding him through subspace.

 

* * *

  

_"How often are you dropping?" Straight to the point. Uruha likes that about his therapist. It reminds him of his mother. And also Ruki._

_He flushes in embarrassment anyways. "Too often."_

_"Too often? How often is too often?"_

_"Every other night."_

_She hums in thought. "I don't believe that's too often."_

_Uruha feels himself look up in surprise._

_"No?"_

_She shakes her head._

_"You're going through a lot of changes right now. Subs have a habit of ruminating, hyper-focusing, circling around their worries. It's healthy to need the escape, especially when the worries are piling so high."_

* * *

  

And piling they are. But Uruha can't help but feel like the dropping is making it worse. In the moments that he's under, Uruha feels blissful. He feels alive. He feels free.

But in the moments after, he's lonely and cold. Imagining Reita isn't enough for him anymore.

He wants the real thing.

But he's not allowed to have that.

 

* * *

 

_"Have you thought of asking him?"_

_"Asking who?" There's trepidation in his voice. She smiles at him._

_"Your darling dom, Akira," she says, a hint of amusement in her tone. He's gotten more comfortable with her and they've moved past the awkward phase of not knowing how to talk to one another. Now she even teases him once in a while and it's kind of soothing. It makes him feel more like a person and less like a patient. He blushes bright red at her words._

_"D-darling dom?"_

_She nods with a hum. The amusement has spread from her voice to her expression. "You should ask him to drop you. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."_

_Uruha can't stop the bitter scoff that escapes his lips. "I'm sure he would."_

_"And why would you say that?" She doesn't miss a beat. She never does._

_"He'd think it was weird. He doesn't feel the same way about me."_

_She's quiet for a second, observing him. "From the way you speak of him, I would think differently."_

_Uruha doesn't want to listen to her. He doesn't want to get hopeful._

_"It doesn't matter. I don't deserve him."_

 

* * *

  

Reita's proud of him for going to therapy. After two months in the studio and ten weeks of therapy, Reita tells him he can already see a difference. Uruha doesn't know how he can think that because frankly, it's not true. Uruha doesn't feel like he's changed at all. He still feels like he's barely hanging on.

He still doesn't sleep at night. He's still exhausted, he's still strung out and stressed out of his mind. He still misses Kenta, he still lusts after Reita, he's still jealous of Ruki. He still hates himself.

Asako told him that would all change when he went to therapy.

This might be the first time she’s lied to him.

 

* * *

  

_"Why don't you think you deserve him?" It's the sixth session in a row that she's asked him this. He hasn't been able to answer. He still can't._

_"Does therapy work for everyone?" He shoots back instead. She looks unsurprised; she's gotten used to his weak attempts at diversion. She hums and shrugs a bit._

_"Not everyone. Why do you ask?"_

_"Just curious." If she knows it isn't working for him, she might think of him as even more unsalvageable. Though she can probably tell just by looking at him._

_"Some people expect therapy to do all the work. They see therapy as some sort of medication. You go to the session and everything solves itself. But that's not how therapy works."_

_"How does it work?"_

_She leans forward, elbows on her knees and hands clasped in front of her._

_"You have to open yourself to it, Takashima-san. Make an effort. You have to stop being afraid to talk about the things you're afraid of. You have to trust me. And you have to trust yourself."_

 

* * *

  

They've started recording in the studio now that they've solidified what song they're putting on the album.The band has reached a point of understanding between one another where they don't have to be in the studio together when recording, but they like to be. It keeps them communicating, keeps them bonded. It keeps them working cohesively, not just as colleagues but as a family.

There's a song on the album that Uruha had written a long time ago. Like a _long_ time ago. Like around the time Kenta had died. The sound is chaotic and emotional, like messy grief. The drums pound, stuttering like a broken heart and the guitars wail with anger and loss. Uruha doesn't tell the others what it's about, but he knows Ruki can feel it.

It's difficult for Uruha to be in the room when they record it. He can feel the song in his gut, threatening to throw all the emotions he poured into it back at him.

He grits and bears it through. They can't write this song without him. It's too personal, he won't let them.

The sub sits in the back so the others can't see the tears on his cheeks when Ruki sings. Ruki's singing sounds like he's crying and it makes Uruha cry as well.

* * *

 

_"You're angry. Why are you angry?"_

_Uruha stares at his hands, fingers playing with one of his rings. Ever since he started trying to be more honest with her, he hasn't been able to look her in the eyes._

_"I'm angry because I still miss him." His voice is hoarse from tears. It's a bad day._

_"Miss who?"_

_He knows she knows. She just wants him to say it out loud. It makes him angrier, but it's not her fault. He has to remember that._

_"Kenta."_

_"And why does that make you angry? It's okay to miss him."_

_"I don't deserve to miss him."_

_"You keep saying you don't deserve things. Why do you think that?"_

_Uruha can't answer._

 

* * *

 

The day that they finish the song, Uruha walks home in a daze. He spends twenty minutes trying to make dinner for himself, emotions rattling in his chest, before he breaks. He's a whirlwind of anguish, stomping around his apartment and gathering everything that reminds him of Kenta. Clothes, CDs, photos, everything.

He starts throwing things in boxes, in the trash, on the doorstep. There are tears streaming down his cheeks and his chest hurts and he has to stop halfway through because it hurts so fucking much.

He just wants the pain to stop.

He wants to stop coming home every day and seeing Kenta, smelling Kenta, feeling him in the apartment. He wants to stop missing Kenta, feeling empty without him.

He doesn't know why he didn't do this sooner.

When he finally gets off his ass and starts trying to get Kenta's stuff out of the door, he finds he can't. He can't get himself to do it.

Of course- because he's so fucking weak. Why did he expect any differently?

Uruha doesn't know what to do.

So he sits his ass on the couch and cries.

He's interrupted, however, twenty minutes later when the doorbell rings.

Fuck.

He had forgotten that Kai was supposed to come over today.

Things are still a bit awkward between them, but that's why Uruha had invited him over. He doesn't want this chasm to be between them forever. Things are already fixed and all is forgiven, they just need time to get comfortable around each other again.

But Uruha's likely fucked that up again. How is Kai supposed to feel comfortable with him again when Kenta's shit is strewn all over the place, he's crying, and everything is a fucking mess?

The doorbell rings again and Uruha quickly wipes his eyes, running to the door to open it. Kai looks alarmed by how he looks but he quickly fixes his expression, smiling and greeting the sub with a quick one-armed hug.

"Hey. Is now a bad time?"

Uruha smiles and quickly shakes his head. "No, sorry. Come in." He steps back and lets Kai inside, frantically wiping at his cheeks. He takes deep breaths as Kai slips off his shoes to try and slow his heartbeat, get him back to feeling reasonably sociable.

"What's all this?" Kai asks gently. He points to the things that Uruha hadn't been able to move. The sub flushes, scratching the back of his head as he walks into the kitchen.

"I was just getting rid of some stuff," he hums nonchalantly but Kai sees right through him.

"Kenta's stuff?"

Uruha does a double take. "How'd you know?"

Kai smiles. "The box of photos. They all have him in it." He points to the top box that Uruha had coincidentally left open. Uruha flushes at being discovered, but Kai's next words are oddly soothing. "I'm proud of you, Uruha," Kai says, following him into the kitchen. "I was kind of an asshole and for that, I'm sorry. But I really am proud of you, for all of this."

This time Uruha's face flushes for a different reason and he smiles. "Thanks Kai. You can stop apologizing for what happened. I forgave you," he chuckles.

"If you insist," Kai sighs, but he's smiling too. "So what did you have in mind for tonight?"

Uruha grins at him. "We haven't had a drunk movie marathon in a while," he hums, grabbing his spirits from the top shelf. "You want some sake?"

Kai laughs. "I thought you'd never ask," he says happily, grabbing two bottles for himself. Uruha does the same, and the two amble out to the couch.

Uruha had Kai used to have movie marathons every other Friday when the band was first starting out. Everyone else always made fun of their movie taste, so they had taken to getting together just the two of them, getting as drunk as possible and binging movies until they both fell asleep.  

As Kai pops in a movie and Uruha plops on the couch, he feels a warm feeling replace the distraught from earlier. It feels good to do this again.

They curl up on the couch at opposite ends so they can look at each other and laugh when something dumb happens in the movie. Uruha's halfway through his first bottle when that happens and he curls up, giggling. Kai shoots him an exasperated but amused look.

"That wasn't even funny-"

Uruha doesn't care. He's emotional today, and a little tired, and he didn't eat a good dinner so he's getting tipsy faster than usual, so sue him if he's giggling a lot. It's better than crying, and he counts that as a win. Kai gently kicks his foot, but he's chuckling under his breath as well.

They go back to watching the movie. By the end of the movie, both have finished their first drinks, then their second, then their third. They're stumbling a bit when they get up to put their drinks away and start the next movie, but they both readily agree that they are _not_ drunk.

After washing out the bottles and putting them back in the recycling, Kai stops Uruha before he can go back out to the couch.

"Hey..." he looks a little guilty, like he thinks he shouldn't be asking, but he does anyway. "If you're having trouble getting rid of Kenta's stuff, do you maybe want some help?" He has the good sense to look apprehensive, which makes Uruha feel better about saying no, but then he finds he doesn't want to.

"Actually..." he pauses. When he stops to think about it, having Kai there would probably help him cut ties with things he really doesn't need to keep. He’s a little all over the place right now. Kai would be a good voice of reason. And it would be nice to have a shoulder to cry on when he gets emotional. Uruha looks over at Kai, sees the careful but hopeful look in his eye.

This is the olive branch, the final seal in the rekindling of their friendship. The sub feels warmth fill his chest and he smiles. "Yeah. That would be great, actually." Kai grins back and moves to the counter.

"This calls for the high quality shit," he hums, grabbing some wine and pouring two glasses. He holds one out to Uruha. "Shall we?"

Uruha grins and takes the glass. This is gonna be a shit show but he's embracing it, wholeheartedly. The two of them walk out to the entranceway and plop down on the floor. Kai grabs the first box.

Uruha picks up his wine glass and takes a big fucking sip.

* * *

  

_"I'm very proud of you." She smiles at him, eyes glimmering from behind her glasses. "It must have taken a lot of courage for you to put his things away."_

_Uruha swallows thickly and nods. "I didn't get rid of all of it," he admits._

_She smiles wider. "That's okay. There's a difference, Takashima-san, between moving on from him, and erasing him."_

 

* * *

  

By one in the morning, Kai and Uruha have made it down to a single box. They’ve gotten rid of everything so far. Uruha's refrained from crying, but this box is the special box and he's not so sure he'll be able to make it through this one. Kai opens the box and peers at the contents, then turns to Uruha with a worried look.

"You know, it's okay to keep some of his things," he says softly. Uruha nods.

"I want to go through it anyways." Kai nods and starts taking things out. He lays them on the floor. There are only a couple items but each is equally as meaningful as the last.

A folded letter.

A couple of items of clothing.

A dried rose.

A stack of polaroid photographs.

A bottle of cologne.

A collar.

_His_ collar.

Kai catches him staring at it and reaches out to pick it up. "You're keeping this," he says firmly. Uruha hesitates.

That collar has become the bane of his existence. It haunts him, taunts him at night when his throat feels naked and his bed feels empty. Kai notices his expression and shakes his head.

"It's your first collar. You're keeping it," Kai says again and that's that. He puts it to the left of him, creating a new keep pile. Then he goes for the cologne. "Get rid of this?"

Uruha nods in agreement. He had mostly been keeping that to help him with dropping. Holding on to it at this point is just silly. Kai puts it back in the box. He points to the letter. "Do you want to keep this?"

Uruha nods. "He sent that to me during the Nameless Liberty tour, so that it would reach us at Tokyo Dome even though he was at the show anyways. It was cute." Uruha smiles at the memory and Kai nods in agreement, placing it next to the collar. He picks up the rose.

"Explain."

Uruha blushes. "Our first date," he hums, and that's really all the explanation he needs, but Uruha can't stop the words. "He brought me lilies, and I carried them all night, holding them to my chest like a lovesick schoolgirl. Until I tripped and dropped them in a fountain like a dumbass. I felt so bad but he just took my hand and walked me into town to find a flower shop. By then it was so late that none of the shops were open, but there was a flower vendor by the fountain that was just closing up. He was only selling roses. Kenta bought the whole bouquet for me. I freeze-dried the rose to keep it," he finishes, his cheeks bright red and Kai chuckles.

"That's adorable. You're definitely keeping this," he hums, putting it with the others. "I say, pick your favorite article of clothing and keep that. Get rid of the others." He pushes the pile over to Uruha to go through. The sub rifles through it, finally settling on one of Kenta's old sweatshirts. "You can keep the photos, too," Kai finishes, folding up the rest of the clothes and putting them back in the box.

Uruha reaches for the photos, leafing through them. There are pictures from all sorts of occasions, from each anniversary, their first apartment, each birthday.

Kai stands and starts carrying the boxes out to his car. "We'll bring these to charity tomorrow morning. Together," Kai says and Uruha shoots him a quick smile.

"Thank you." He turns his gaze back to the photos, listening to Kai pound up and down the apartment stairs. The last few hours have sobered the both of them up and now Uruha feels exhausted.

Exhausted, but good. Really good. He feels a little freer. And he feels like he knows himself a little better.

One of the photos catch Uruha's eyes. It's a candid, taken by Uruha early in the morning when Kenta hadn't been paying attention. The dom is standing in the kitchen in a pair of boxers and nothing else. His hair is mussed and he looks half awake as he sips his coffee. He looks beautiful. Uruha is suddenly filled with longing. He misses those mornings.

Then his eyes close in on the mug Kenta's holding. His favorite mug.

And then it all comes back to him.

 

* * *

  

_"Why don't you deserve him?"_

_Uruha feels tears well up and he can't look her in the eye. There's silence for some time, and he's grateful that she can tell he's doing his best. He's trying to speak. He's trying to say it. It won't come out._

_"Could I have some water, please?" He asks softly, voice rough, and she smiles and nods, standing to get it. Uruha listens to her fill the cup with water from the cooler and he swallows a lump in his throat. She hands it to him along with a box of tissues and he opens his mouth to thank her but it doesn't come out. She understands anyways. He sips his water as she sits back down, leaning forward and placing her elbows on his knees. It makes him feel like she's listening, not judging, so he feels the knots of anxiety loosen a bit. It doesn't make the words less terrifying._

_"So Kouyou," she says softly once she's given him ample time. "Why don't you deserve to be happy?"_

_Uruha swallows and forces it out. The words come out as mere air the first time, falling back into his throat and the second time they crawl their way out. They come out choked and ugly._

_"I killed Kenta."_

 

* * *

Kai finds him curled up on the floor, surrounded by the photos, crying his eyes out. The dom crouches by his side, gently rubbing his back and Uruha leans into the touch gratefully.

"Hey," the dom says softly. "Let's get you to bed. It'll be more comfortable than the floor." Uruha's shoulders are shaking and he just wants to curl up on the floor and cry the pain away, but he lets Kai help him up and lead him to the bedroom. The sub has a hand permanently over his mouth trying to muffle his sobs. When they reach the bedroom, Uruha's crying harder, so the dom sits beside him and pulls him close, hugging him gently. They sit there for hours before Uruha is too exhausted to keep going.

"I'm sorry-" he whispers and Kai shushes him, squeezing his shoulders.

"Hush you. Get some rest. We'll go to charity in the morning," he promises and helps tuck him in.

"Kai?" Uruha sniffles as he goes to slip out of the room. Kai pauses. "I'm glad we're okay."

The dom smiles. "Me too. Goodnight Uruha," he hums as he closes the door behind him. Uruha curls up beneath the sheets, the polaroid of Kenta still in his hands, and wills himself to sleep.

In the morning he and Kai go to charity. He carries all the boxes in, and the workers there shake his hand and thank him profusely.

It makes him feel good. It makes him feel like he's finally letting go of his past _and_ helping people.

At the same time, it makes him feel guilty. It makes him feel like a murderer that's getting rid of the evidence. The polaroid burns a hole in the pocket of his sweatpants.

 

* * *

 

_Now that he's said the words, he can't take them back. He presses tissues to his face, trying desperately to quell the tears but it doesn't work. Horror works its way up his throat like bile and he has to look down at his feet._

_"Why do you say that?" Her voice is calm, like it always is, and Uruha internally balks are her ability to seem passive in every situation._

_He tries to figure out where to begin. She notices his struggle._

_"Why don't you start from the morning before it happened?"_

_He bites his lip. "I-I-" He can't get the words out so he sighs and tries again. "I wasn't... I wasn't feeling t-too great s-s-so, so I-" He's stuttering and stumbling and the tears are coming faster from frustration and his hands are shaking like mad. She holds a finger up to pause him, then reaches into her desk and tosses him a small object. It's a stress ball. He chuckles under his breath, feeling like a child, but squeezes it anyways._

_It kind of helps._

_He tries again._

_"I-I'd been neglecting him." His words are thick with tears but he takes a deep breath and pushes on. "I was so busy with work and-and I was tired all the time and s-s-stressed and we hadn't dropped in f-fucking ages because of me-" Uruha wipes his cheek with the back of his hand but it does little good. "I was on edge because of it and he was on edge because of it but he was- he was trying so hard to comfort me and make me feel like I wasn't being fucking horrible to him b-but I was-"_

_He's spiraling now but he can't stop it. It hurts, it hurts so fucking much and he wants to stop but he can't. His chest is tight and he's hunched over in the seat, trembling. There's a serrated knife in his chest and it's sawing slowly, cutting through tendon and muscle, grinding against bone. It hurts._

_"-And-And I was just having a breakdown and being a mess because that's all I seem to be able to do and he was trying to calm me down but I was late for work and I-" he cuts himself off with a sob. "I-I-I broke his mug, I fucking broke it-"_

_It's pitiful, how much of a snotty, teary mess he is right now but he can't stop it. "God- I broke it and when I went to work he was trying so hard because he's a fucking angel and I don't deserve him and-" he takes a deep, shuddering breath. "He tried to bring me lunch. He- he tried- he tried to bring me lunch and he was so focused on my d-dumb, needy ass that he didn't see the car-"_

_His voice cuts out abruptly. His sight is blurry with tears and his throat hurts from breathing and his chest hurts from gasping and he wants to apologize for falling apart in her office but his vocal chords have stopped working and all he can do is dry heave._

_He doesn't notice her moving to kneel in front of him. She doesn't touch him, but her closeness is like a balm on the wound._

_"Breathe, Kouyou," she says softly. "Breathe and focus on my voice. Focus on your hands, the ball, squeeze it, Kouyou. Squeeze it for me. Keep breathing. Focus on the rise and fall of your chest, the expansion of your ribs-"_

_He's never been led through a panic attack like this but he has to admit, it's probably the most effective method he's ever used. It only takes seven minutes for him to calm down until he's crying quietly into the wad of tissues._

_"I'm sorry-" he croaks and she shakes her head, shushing him gently._

_"You have nothing to apologize for, Kouyou. I'm very proud of you for getting all of that out."_

_She must have superpowers because her voice alone has removed the knife. The stabbing, sawing pain has stopped, leaving only an aching, bloody, dripping wound. He can only nod. She waits a minute before speaking again._

_"Kouyou, can you look at me?" She says softly. He forces himself to look up slowly. He can't quite decipher the look in her eye. She looks sad and angry, but mostly determined. "Listen to me, Kouyou." Her voice is quiet and calm and deadly resolute. "What happened that day is not your fault." Normally he'd be opening his mouth to disagree. Today he doesn't have the energy. "Everybody has bad days, everybody gets overworked, strung out, exhausted, once in a while. It's not your fault that you had a bad day, or week, or month, or whatever it was. Every sub has bad days and every dom does their best to soothe their sub, just as Kenta did for you. What happened between you and Kenta that day was nothing out of the ordinary. It was perfectly healthy."_

_The tears stream faster. He doesn't understand. If it was normal, if it was healthy, then why did the universe have to punish him? Why did he have to lose Kenta?_

_"I don't-"_

_"The driver is the only one at fault," she says softly. "You cannot blame yourself."_

_Uruha doesn't believe her, but he thinks in time, he could._

 

* * *

 

Uruha's drunk.

Really fucking drunk.

He's drunk and he needs to drop and he's making strides in therapy so _fuck it,_ he thinks.

_I'm gonna go for it._

Which is why he finds himself outside Reita's apartment door, leaning on the wall as he knocks with one hand. The walls are swaying a bit and nearly all his common sense has been left down stairs and it seems like the perfect night to do something stupid.

He's always been kind of a dumb drunk.

When Reita opens the door, Uruha doesn't even wait for him to speak. Instead he steps firmly forward, ignores his lack of balance, and catches himself with a hand on Reita's shoulder.

"Reita." The dom looks so fucking gorgeous like this, in his pajamas, face bare, eyes wide and confused. Uruha giggles. He looks so cute, like a confused little puppy.

"Uru-"

"Drop me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this chapter a lot both because of format and content. This was a very personal chapter to write, nevertheless, I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you for all your feedback so far!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed

The textbook definition of a sub is as follows:

 **Sub  
**_Noun;_ a submissive; someone born biologically inferior, prone to being emotional or directionless; often needs a dom or someone of more dominant nature to punish, order, or otherwise guide them.

Or at least, that's the definition Uruha had been taught in school. He likes to believe that in the city, in the new age of technology and art, things have changed. He likes to believe that perhaps children are being taught now that they're equal. Perhaps submissives are no longer being pigeonholed into a single stereotype of emotional, delicate housewives. 

Unfortunately, he knows that belief is nothing if not a delusion. He sees it in the way young subs walk home after classes, heads hung low, eyes on the ground, arms wrapped around themselves. He sees it in the way young doms hang around in packs, puffing their chests and cursing out unfortunate passerbys. He sees it in the way their universities are still largely segregated, with subs choosing to stick to certain "safe" professions. He sees it in the way the subs without collars hide their necks as if they have something to be ashamed of, while doms flash the subs on their arms like accessories. He sees it in the way any sub standing up for themselves is written off as overly sensitive. 

_"They probably just haven't dropped in a bit. A dom should put them in their place."_

It's almost worse in the city, he sometimes thinks. Because sure, back home, subs are treated as nothing more than overemotional trophy wives. But at least they're treasured. Here, they're nothing more than objects. 

 

* * *

 

Uruha's never fit the stereotypical sub archetype. 

In primary school, he had always been popular with the other kids. It was easy for him to make friends. He had no trouble with his studies. Everything was easy when all you had to do was share your crayons and finish your work on time.

But once teachers started demanding more of him and things started getting more complicated with other kids, Uruha began to struggle. He just wasn't connecting with the other kids, or at least not in the way everyone expected. He made friends with doms and switches just fine, but the other subs didn't seem to want to play with him. His teachers complained about him being brash and unconventional. When his parents came in for a meeting, they were met with complaints of him being too distant and not emotionally available enough for the other subs.

His doctor thought there might have been something wrong with him. He suspected he had some sort of psychological trauma that prevented him from forming emotional attachments. Later, when his father left, his doctor suspected that he had closed himself off further as a result. 

But the truth was that Uruha formed emotional attachments just fine, just not in ways people deemed right for a sub. He cared about his friends. He cared about his classmates, his work, his family. But he didn't pour over his affections, didn't write them sappy letters of friendship, didn't moon over the big tough doms in his classes or fuss over his friends in a motherly fashion. When his classmates cried during an emotional movie, he sat in the back, twirling a pencil and daydreaming. When bullies made fun of his lips, he just gave them a dead stare and turned back to his work. When that sweet switch from down the street asked him out on Valentine's day with roses and chocolates in front of the entire student body, Uruha was touched but unaffected.

It wasn't that he couldn't show affection to his friends when he wanted to. But the gushy, mushy stereotype of what a sub was – well that just wasn't him. 

So to some people, he came off as a bit of an asshole. 

But that was okay.

Because when their first band failed, and then their second, and the critics blamed him, the sub, for each band's demise, Uruha had no trouble appearing impassive for the cameras. It was easier for him to stay professional and stay determined. He, and countless others in the industry, counted his passivity as a positive trait. 

Later, when the GazettE began to make it big, critics turned on him.

They called him 4D, emotionless, a little alien, spacey, straight-faced. 

They said he was too quiet, too boring during interviews, too negligent towards his bandmates.

He soon learned that he could never please them. Critics would always blame him for something, no matter how much he did or didn't fit their idea of what a sub was. 

But that was okay.

Because his bandmates accepted him for who he was. They supported him, cheered him on, gave him space when he needed it and love when he needed it.

It didn't matter to him what the critics said.

All that mattered to him was the fans, the GazettE, and making his mother proud.

 

Now, that's not to say Uruha doesn't get emotional once in a while.

Because when he does – well that's when shit hits the fan.

 

* * *

 

"Drop me."

 

Uruha's hands are shaking in excitement and he can barely keep the giddy smile off his lips. 

_He's doing it! He's finally doing it!_

He's finally manning up and asking Reita for what he wants.

His therapist would be proud.

Reita looks at him, face twisted in confusion. He obviously just woke up. Uruha decides to give him a minute, bouncing on his heels excitedly. His vision kind of wavers at the movement though, so he pauses, sticking a hand out to steady himself on the wall while he waits for Reita's answer.

The dom reaches up to scratch the back of his neck and Uruha's eyes can't help but fix on the bulge of his bicep at the action. He swallows thickly and forces his eyes back up to meet Reita's, who's looking a bit more awake now.

"W-What are you doing here? What time is it?" He squints at Uruha and Uruha can't help but pout. He leans a little more against the wall, wanting to focus more on how cute Reita looks and less on trying to hold himself up. 

"Rei~ I want you to drop me," he says again, a little more firmly. Reita sighs, looking thoroughly unimpressed and Uruha can't help but want to put in a little more effort. He steps forward again, opening his mouth, but Reita cuts him off.

"Uru, are you drunk?" 

Uruha pouts because yeah, maybe he is, but that's  _so not the point._

He steps forward again and sways a little and Reita reaches out to catch him, his expression growing concerned. Uruha preens as Reita wraps an arm around him.

"You are drunk," the dom sighs, wrapping his arms a little more firmly around Uruha and stepping back. "Okay, let's get you inside."

"Reita-" Uruha tries again but the dom's not listening, wrangling him inside and shutting the door with his heel. Uruha immediately loses his train of thought as the dom manhandles him into the kitchen because  _fuck that's hot_ and if Uruha wasn't already half-hard in his pants before, he definitely is now. Reita finally sets him down on a chair and steps back and Uruha has to physically dig his nails into his own wrist to hold back the whine that tries to escape at the loss of contact between them.

He wants Reita so bad it hurts.

Uruha's pulled out of his thoughts by the dom, who places a glass of water in front of him. "Drink." 

There's no command in his voice but Uruha pretends there is for his own enjoyment, grabbing the water and gulping it down eagerly. Reita watches him and Uruha feels himself flush under his gaze. When he finishes the water he places it down on the table, waiting happily for the dom to praise him. It doesn't come. Instead Reita picks up the glass, turns around to fill it again, then hands it back to him. 

"Slowly this time," he says, almost as if he's afraid Uruha is gonna get sick. Uruha, a little cowed by Reita's tone, slouches in his seat and sips slowly. "Thank you. Now, you know my apartment is always open for you, but Uruha. It's two in the morning. What are you doing here?" 

Uruha feels a tad bit of annoyance flair up in his chest. He's already said it three fucking times, does he need to fucking reword it for the dom to understand?

Nevertheless, he's patient. Uruha takes a deep breath and tries to voice his request as eloquently as possible. 

"I want you to drop me."

It comes out more slurred than he expected.

Reita stares at him for a long moment, completely silent, and Uruha can feel the hope rising in his chest. He's gonna say yes. His therapist said he would. That's why Reita brought him inside, right? He brought him inside so he can then bring him into the living room and help him slip into that addictive little headspace. Uruha has to remind himself not to squirm in excitement. He can hear the words, can imagine Reita smiling and saying yes and scooping him up and kissing him so vividly, it's almost like it's happening right in front of him.

The dom opens his mouth and Uruha's heart soars.

"No."

Uruha's heart soars, and then it sinks past his stomach, past his intestines, past his fucking knees and onto the fucking kitchen floor where it doesn't shatter but instead oozes over the tiles into a dripping, disgusting mess. He swallows thickly and his vision wobbles. He must have heard him wrong. Uruha licks his lips, suddenly dry, and repeats himself.

"I want you to drop me." His voice wavers. 

"No," Reita says again and this time it couldn't have been clearer. The dom crosses his arms in front of his chest. Uruha suddenly feels small.

Maybe he's not asking nicely enough? Maybe he has to be more polite?

"I want you to drop me, please," he says again. His voice comes out weak and he has to swallow again. Reita sighs, like he's disappointed in Uruha. Uruha's throat closes up. His heart aches on the floor.

"No, Uruha-"

"Please, drop me," Uruha cuts him off. He doesn't want to hear Reita say no. "Please-" he begs, trying to keep his head above water because he can feel himself slipping, feel himself starting to cry and Reita opens his mouth again but Uruha can't hear it, can't have his heart trampled on so he reaches out, gently grabbing Reita's hand. "P-Please," he whimpers. "Please drop me, Reita, please-"

Reita looks overwhelmed at how quickly this is spinning out of control but Uruha can't stop himself. He feels the tears well up in his eyes.

"Please-" he chokes out again but Reita stops him.

"Uruha, you're drunk, I'm not going to drop you-" 

"Why not?" He whimpers and it's childish, he knows, but he doesn't care. He forces himself to look at Reita in the eyes, look past his own tears, because he doesn't understand. He doesn't understand why Reita won't drop him. Reita is looking at him in return but his expression is stony, like he's trying not to reveal how he feels. 

Suddenly Uruha is angry.

He doesn't have a right to be, but it doesn't stop him.

Uruha stands, holding onto the table to keep himself from falling over because he's still drunk but whatever. He's angry. It's not fucking fair. 

"I'm doing everything you asked! I'm seeing a therapist like you asked!" The tears are falling faster and frustration is curling in his gut. "I'm getting better!" Reita's expression isn't changing and it makes him angrier. "I did all of this for you!" He spits and it's true. Yeah, he did this for Asako but he also did this for Reita. He turned his life upside down, opened himself up to a total stranger, put himself through one hellish hour after the next so that Reita wouldn't be disappointed in him. So that he would be proud. 

His heart hurts. "I did what you asked- I'll even stop smoking-" he's begging now but he's still so angry, so hurt, he's not sure what's going to come out of his mouth next. 

He's gasping for breath because he's crying so hard now, but he forces himself forward on his feet, closer to Reita, who backs up.

There's tension in Reita's jaw, like he's mad at Uruha and it makes Uruha pause. Reita looks so tired, so conflicted and sad and angry. 

And as fast as it had appeared, Uruha's anger shrivels up.

Now there's just pain. 

He just wants Reita. He just wants the dom to hold him close, to kiss his tears away, rock him gently, tell him everything is okay. 

"Please-" he hiccups. "Please, I did what you asked- please drop me."

Reita takes a deep breath and Uruha's surprised at how shaky it is. For a moment he thinks Reita is going to give in, but then the dom jumps on his oozing heart like a kid jumping in a puddle on a rainy day. 

"No." 

Uruha can't find it in himself to beg anymore. 

"Why not?" he sniffles and feels pathetic. 

Reita sighs and his expression relaxes a bit, looking less angry and more sad. "You know why. You're drunk Uruha."

"B-but-" Uruha tries to voice his disagreement but Reita doesn't let him finish. Instead he picks up the glass of water, hands it to him, and steps back. The obvious distance between them makes Uruha feel sick. 

"You're drunk and it's two o'clock. Let's go to bed, we can talk in the morning," he says gently. Uruha feels the fight in him die and he lets Reita corral him into the bedroom. He sniffles and sips at the water as Reita grabs some of the pillows and blankets. "You can take the bed. I'm sleeping on the couch," he says and it should make Uruha feel loved that he's barged in on Reita's home and Reita is still holding his comfort over his own, but it feels more like an exile.

He did this, he's driving Reita away. Suddenly he needs to make this right. 

"Rei- I'm sorry-" he chokes out in a small voice but Reita stops him. 

"It's okay Uruha. Just, you deserve better. We both do." 

The words are said gently but the intention is clear.

At least, it is to Uruha's alcohol addled brain. 

Reita deserves better. Better than Uruha.

Uruha doesn't deserve him.

The tears return but Uruha does what he can to keep them in his throat. He doesn't want to be more of a burden than he already is. What was left of his heart had followed them from the kitchen and returned to his body, but now it's convulsing in his chest cavity, squeezing painfully.

"Goodnight," Reita says and as he walks out of the room, Uruha can't help but feel like he really fucked up, and this time for good.

He hears the bedroom door shut with a note of finality and the sub sits on the bed, feeling a little numb, a little overwhelmed, and very very upset. The tears return without his permission and he's suddenly wondering where he went wrong. When did things get so out of control?

When did  _he_ get so out of control? 

 

* * *

 

Uruha wakes the next morning with a pounding headache. His face feels dry and swollen and disgusting and the rest of his body feels hot and uncomfortable. He fell asleep in his clothes the night before, under all the covers, so it makes sense. What surprises him is that these aren't his sheets. It takes him a moment to figure out whose they are and when he does, a wave of dread comes over him.

The night before rushes back to him. 

Shit.

Uruha rolls over on his side and grimaces as his head swims. On the side table there's a fresh glass of water and a napkin with some aspirin. Even when Uruha's an asshole, Reita is always such an angel. It's not fucking fair. 

For a moment he thinks to get up and go to the bathroom to puke, but then he hears the shower spray and Reita's humming. The dom always forgets about the echo of the bathroom and it makes him louder than he expects. 

Uruha feels sick.

Reita told him that when he woke the next morning, they'd talk. Uruha would rather gouge his eyes out.  

He can't face the dom. Not after what he did.

This all feels strangely familiar, and Uruha's suddenly reminded of the last time he tried to avoid talking to Reita.

But that was different. 

That had been a misunderstanding on both of their parts, both of them feeling as if they had crossed a line when really there hadn't been a line to begin with.

This time, there was no misunderstanding. Uruha had clearly crossed the line and there were clearly going to be consequences. 

He can't face this. 

The sub climbs out of bed, his head screaming at him to stop. He ignores it. He feels like he's going to puke but Reita's in the bathroom so he can't use the toilet. He'll puke on the grass once he reaches outdoors, he decides. It's not ideal, but it will have to do.

He's still in his clothes so it doesn't take him long to find his shoes and stumble out to the entryway, but when he gets there, he can't seem to make himself open the door.

His head is screaming louder at him. In fact, it seems the closer he gets to the door, the louder his head is screaming. 

He reaches for the door knob and now it's his inner sub screaming, telling him to stop being a fucking idiot, telling him to stop being a coward, stop running away because how the fuck is he supposed to fix things with Reita if he keeps running away before the dom has a chance to talk. 

He can't ignore anymore that his head isn't screaming from the hangover. 

God, he's a fucking idiot.

Uruha looks back in the direction of the bathroom where Reita is right now, and he should go back to bed, take the aspirin and wait for Reita to be done in the shower. But just like he can't make his hand turn the doorknob, he can't make his feet walk him back. 

So instead he slides down the wall to sit by the door, knees up to his chest and head in his hands. 

Which is how Reita finds him, ten minutes later, curled up and too exhausted to bother crying. 

Uruha doesn't notice until the dom plops on the floor in front of him, legs crossed and hair still wet from the shower, and clears his throat. Uruha looks up, expecting Reita's face to be angry or upset or at least impassive, but instead it looks like he's trying to hide a smile. He glances at the door, then back at Uruha.

"Hangover so bad you can't remember how to open doors?" he teases and Uruha flushes in embarrassment. He can't bring himself to banter in return.

"I'm sorry-" he croaks.

Reita sighs, and then to Uruha's surprise, smiles a bit. "It's okay." 

"It's not-" Uruha protests. He can't understand why Reita's just letting him off so easily. It's not right. Uruha clearly fucked up this time so why does Reita keep saying it's okay? 

Reita hums. "You were drunk and upset, Uruha. It's fine."

"I shouldn't have yelled at you," Uruha says seriously. Reita nods slowly.

"You shouldn't have," he agrees and it eases Uruha's heart a bit.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you, or invaded your personal space, and for that, I'm really, really sorry," Uruha says, bowing his head to Reita. 

The dom sighs but it seems to Uruha that he finally understands that he can't just brush it off this time, that it's not something that can be pushed aside just because Uruha's his best friend and he's got a soft spot for him. Part of him is frustrated that Reita is always forgiving him for everything instead of holding him accountable and putting him in his damn place, but at the same time, he knows that getting mad at Reita for not being mad at him is just dumb. 

"I accept your apology," Reita says softly, reaching out and gently patting his knee. "And I'm happy that you didn't run away," he adds. Uruha flushes. 

"I thought about it," he admits and Reita chuckles.

"I know."

"I'm sorry," Uruha repeats because he doesn't know what else he can say. There's nothing else to say, no excuse for what he did.

"I know," Reita says again and Uruha can't help but pout. Reita chuckles at that. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

Uruha's heart plummets and he flushes further. "Not really..." he says, and Reita laughs, gently poking his shin. 

"You know that was more of a prod in the right direction than an actual question," he muses and Uruha pouts further.

"I know. I just don't know where to begin." 

"Do you want me to start?" Reita hums. Uruha bites his lip and nods slowly. The dom takes a deep breath, looking down at his hands as he speaks. This doesn't bode well, Uruha thinks.

"I will admit, I was pretty mad last night," Reita says and Uruha can only swallow thickly and nod. "It was childish of you, to come over in the middle of the night, drunk, and demand something like that of me." He looks up at Uruha now, meeting his gaze and Uruha nods quickly, eager to show Reita that he agrees. "I was really angry, actually," he breathes. "But, I also know that you've been going through a lot of changes lately, and you've been trying really hard to get better, and I know that's been really hard for you. Don't get me wrong, you do that again and we're going to have a serious problem. But... I understand. And a part of me is also thankful that I'm the person you came to, and not some stranger on the streets," he finishes, and now there's a bit of flush in his cheeks. Uruha forces himself to nod, then speak.

"I... I'm sorry for barging in and being a total dick," he says softly. "I... I don't really have any excuse." 

Reita nods in response. Silence falls over the two of them and Uruha's reminded again of their last misunderstanding, the stifling tension that had nearly suffocated them. He looks for a cupboard to smack his forehead against to break the tension again, but finds he doesn't have to. 

"Can I just ask you something?" Reita asks. Uruha nods, ignoring the nerves that arise suddenly. "Last night, when you were asking me to drop you..." The dom licks his lips nervously and Uruha has to remind himself to breathe. "Did you really want  _me_ to drop you? Or were you just drunk?" 

Uruha's voice stops in his throat. He makes a weak sound and flushes instead, then swallows. Part of him knows he should be honest with Reita. His therapist has been telling him to be more honest. But Reita's words echo in his brain. 

_"We deserve better."_

Reita deserves better.

So instead of being honest, Uruha lies. 

"I was just drunk," he says softly. He lies, but he's never been able to lie and look Reita in the eye so he looks down at his hands. He misses the look of disappointment wash over Reita's expression in the process. 

By the time Uruha has forced himself to chill the fuck out and look up, Reita's schooled his expression. He nods and Uruha tries to ignore his heart oozing over the floor  _again._

"Thank you for not running away," Reita says softly. "And thank you for being honest."

Uruha tries not to wince and nods instead. "Thank you for putting up with my dumbass," he says and smiles a bit at Reita, who chuckles and winks at him. 

"Anytime, Shima." The dom stands and reaches a hand out to help Uruha off the floor. "Do you want breakfast?"

Uruha blushes and nods, lacing his fingers with Reita's as he lets him pull him up. When he gets to his feet however, his stomach lurches. "On second thought-" Uruha turns and runs to the bathroom, falling to his knees to puke into the toilet. 

It's just one humiliation after the next.

He vows (not for the first time) to never drink again.

 

* * *

 

"I have a story for you," Uruha hums, playing with a thread in the couch's pillow. 

"You do?" His therapist pushes her glasses further up on her nose. Uruha nods. "What's it called?"

"It's called, 'I fucked up.'"

He can tell she's trying to hide her amusement. "And what kind of story is it?" 

Uruha hums and tries to think of an accurate description. It's not hard. "It's like one of those stories where you're just hit with wave after wave of second-hand embarrassment so you want to stop reading, but it's so bad that you just have to keep going," he describes, a small smile on his face, and he kind of likes that they're making light of the situation because it makes it easier for him to distance himself emotionally, pretend it didn't really happen and it really is just a soap opera story. She hums and nods, watching him carefully. He ignores it; he's gotten pretty used to it by now. "Want me to give you the rundown?" He asks and she nods. He takes a deep breath. "So, I got drunk, like really drunk, like out of my mind, emotional, messy drunk," he sighs. "And then I went over to Akira's house, and then I yelled at him, and then I lied to him." 

She just nods. That's all she ever does.

"This sounds like a story I'd like to hear in more detail. Care to share?" 

He makes a face but nods. He wouldn't have brought it up if he didn't want to talk about it and she knows that. 

"I woke him up at like two in the morning and then demanded that he drop me. I don't know what I was thinking, honestly because that was just about the most fucked up way I could have gone about it." She nods in agreement and he keeps going. "When he wouldn't drop me, which obviously he wouldn't because I was fucking drunk and a fucking idiot, I got mad and just started yelling and begging and crying like a fucking mess. It was..." Uruha flushes. "Really bad. Like really, really bad." He has to take a minute before he continues. "He just told me to stop, then let me sleep in his bed because he's even nice when he's angry which is fucking infuriating by the way, and then when I woke the next morning he even left water and aspirin on the table. I have never wanted to run so badly in my life." 

"And did you?" She's giving him that look, like the next words that come out of his mouth determine the fate of the universe and he feels a little annoyed but tells her anyways.

"I tried to, but I couldn't make it out the front door. I stayed the floor in the entryway. It was pretty pathetic." 

She smiles suddenly. "I don't think that's pathetic at all. You stayed. How did Akira feel about this?" 

"He was happy. He thanked me for not running away," Uruha admits and she gives him a wide smile. 

"See? I'm glad you stayed," she says softly. Uruha can only nod, so she continues. "So you stayed. Did you guys talk?" Uruha nods again. She hums. "So this is where the lie comes in?" 

Uruha winces and nods. "He said he was mad about what happened and told me it was childish, which I agreed, and I apologized, and he accepted my apology. Then I apologized a couple more times, and then he asked me if I actually wanted him to drop me, like specifically him, or if I was just drunk and running my mouth." He spares a look up at her this time, but he's not sure why he bothers because she's looking at him with the same passive expression she always looks at him with.

"And you told him that you wanted him to drop you?" She says, but it's obvious in her tone that she knows the truth. He chuckles.

"I told him I was just drunk." She sighs but doesn't look surprised.

"We talked about being more honest," she says softly and Uruha groans, rubbing his face with his hands. 

"I know-" he sighs. "But I just couldn't tell him. I mean he literally told me to my face that I wasn't- that he couldn't-" Uruha can't get the words out.

"You weren't what?"

"He said we deserve better."

His therapist leans forward, elbows on her knees to look at him a bit closer. He swallows thickly.

"And what do you think he meant by that?" She asks him after a moment. Uruha answers immediately. The words are ingrained in his brain, simply habit at this point. 

"He deserves better than me."

She sighs softly. 

"Are you sure that's what he meant, and not that you both deserve to drop when you aren't drunk?" She hums and it seems like the obvious answer. But there's a reason he hasn't thought of it yet. 

Uruha's not stupid. He can't let himself hope, can't let himself believe in the slightest chance that Reita might actually want him (if he wasn't drunk). At the thought, he suddenly feels a little suffocated.

So he doesn't answer. She sighs softly again, and smiles a bit. "Nonetheless, I am proud of you for staying and talking to him, even if you lied at the end. I know it was a big step to face the consequences head on," she hums and Uruha forces a small smile in return.

"Thank you." He bows his head.

"You seem exhausted," she comments softly and it's true. He's exhausted. He hasn't slept well since the incident. "We're about out of time anyways, so why don't you go home and get some rest?" She hums. "Mull this over a bit for me, okay?" 

Uruha nods and stands. "Thank you," he says and bows again. His voice sounds odd, forced and a little flat. It's too obvious and she notices. 

"Kouyou. Are you going to be okay?"

He nods quickly and she shoots him a look like she doesn't believe him. He bows again. "I'll be okay. Thank you, I'll see you next week," he promises. 

"You know you can call me if you need anything," she hums as he backs out and he makes sure she sees him nod before the door shuts behind him. When it does, he can finally breathe. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because the best kind of cockblock is one caused by emotional constipation. 
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to deme_lu because they already know me too well :D Hope you enjoyed!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed

The first time Kouyou told his mother that he wanted to be a musician, her response hadn't been anywhere near what he had been expecting. He had expected some sort of rebuttal, a long discussion on how the only entertainment industry that subs make it in is porn, maybe a careful change of topic to his school studies, or a fake smile and an "are you sure honey?". He hadn't gotten any of that. 

Instead she had grinned, grabbing her phone before trying to find Kouyou a guitar teacher. 

It took her three months to give up.

_"The music industry is too cut-throat for a sub."_

_"He'll get taken advantage of."_

_"The minute a dom tries to get ahead, he'll just bare his neck and allow it to happen."_

_"Subs are too sensitive. He'll get his heart broken."_

_"He won't make it."  
_

_"He's better off finding a dom and settling down."_

_"I'm not going to waste my time."_

 

There had been a few teachers along the way who had been willing to sit down with Kouyou and lead him through the basics. But the minute he wanted to advance to the next level, they'd pat his shoulder and tell him "not to worry his pretty little head over it."

_"Just have fun."_

But Kouyou didn't want to just have fun.

 

Three months after Kouyou had sat his mother down at the table and told her his hopes and dreams, he found her sitting at the same table, head in her hands, struggling to hold back her tears. When he had gently tapped her on the shoulder to ask what was wrong, she had pulled him into her lap, hugging him tightly. 

The world had failed her baby boy, she said. She had failed him.

That night, Kouyou promised himself that he would never let anything get in the way of his dream. The world had failed his mother, but he wouldn't. 

 

By then Kouyou had roped Akira into the mix, and every day after that, the two of them spent hours upon hours in his room, watching videos, listening to tracks, fiddling on the guitar that his mother had bought him, and learning everything that the teachers wouldn't teach him. 

The two of them came up with stage names, band names, and song names. They wrote songs, and scream-sang along to their favorite bands. They shared earbuds, swapped playlists, and snuck out to live shows that they were far too young to be attending. They stayed up till one in the morning, laying on the roof and staring at the stars, imagining what their life would be like when they made it big. 

And then they made it big. And Uruha had never been happier.

He was living his dream. He was playing music. He was doing what everyone had said he couldn't. He was making his mother proud.

And he had his best friend by his side. 

 

* * *

 

Uruha's being ridiculous. He knows it, Reita knows it, everyone knows it.

But he's a little strung out right now. He hadn't gotten dropped and he's handling it fine,  _he promises_ , but it's obvious to anyone that looks at him that he's all over the fucking place. 

He hasn't been able to stop thinking about what his therapist said, and it's making him a little angry at her.

It wasn't her place to do that. It wasn't her place to say those things, to question him, to totally turn every bit of his mind upside down.

She's his therapist, yeah. So maybe it's what he's paying her to do. 

And maybe he's overreacting and maybe he's being ridiculous.

But he's really kinda fucked up over this.

He really thought he was getting better.

It had taken him months,  _months_ , to open up to her, to talk to her about Kenta, to talk to her about Reita, about himself. The only thing he hasn't talked to her about is his father, and that's just because - well, there's no need to. He's been over that for years. It's not a problem anymore. 

But that's all beside the point. 

The point is, he trusted her. He believed her. He was really starting to believe that he was okay, that he wasn't (at least in part) at fault for Kenta's death, that being a sub was okay, that maybe,  _just maybe_ , Reita felt the same, and maybe- 

_Maybe-_

Uruha  _might_ just deserve him.

But she was wrong. Or she had lied to him.

He hasn't decided which.

What he  _has_ decided, is that he can't trust her anymore. 

 

He's been back to see her once since the incident with Reita. He doesn't want to raise any red flags by never showing up again, especially since she's already worried about him. He doesn't need her thinking he's gone off the deep-end. So, he saw her at their regularly scheduled time. He told her about his day, about his week, how he was feeling, and he nodded and smiled when he needed to nod and smile. The only thing he didn't do was tell her the truth. 

Which is that he's having a shit week.

He hasn't seen Reita since the incident. He keeps putting off his studio time with the excuse that he's sick. Which he isn't really, but he still feels like shit so he's gonna roll with the lie. He's been doing that a lot lately, what's the use in stopping now?

He hasn't dropped in about a week either. It's not that he can't, because he's found that imagining Reita is completely foolproof and never fails to push him over the edge, but a part of him doesn't want to drop, whether it's because he just feels gross doing it, or because he, for some sick reason, has to punish himself for everything that's been happening in what's turning into possibly one of the most fucked up years of his life, second only to the year Kenta died. 

So yeah. He's feeling a little fucked right now, a little on edge, and even if he did want to see Reita, it's probably best that he doesn't. Or any dom for that matter, because he really doesn't know what he'll do in their presence. 

Which is why, when there's a knock at the door at four o'clock on Thursday, Uruha freaks the fuck out. 

At first he thinks it's Reita. Who else would it be?

Panic bursts in his brain and he scrambles off the couch, heart in his throat. 

What does he do?

Does he hide in his room, pretend he isn't home? That wouldn't work - Reita has a spare key. Does he cough really fucking loud and hope that Reita is perturbed by his "illness" and leaves him be? That's not gonna cut it either, he figures - Reita would probably just burst in to make sure he's not hacking up a lung. Uruha briefly entertains the thought of making an exit with the fire escape but fuck that, he's so fucking tired, and he's not dressed, and his neighbors already think he's weird enough.

The only thing he can think to do is open the door and hope he looks fucked up enough to drive Reita away.

Which shouldn't be hard, given just how fucked up he looks.

Uruha's never been the biggest fan of his looks, but he also knows when he looks good. Today is not one of those days. He's dressed in nothing but boxers and a sweatshirt (a sweatshirt that's  _totally not_ Reita's). His face is dry and unshaven with bags the size of Mt. Fuji under his eyes, and his hair had been so unsalvageable this morning that he had tied it in a messy fucked up bun and left it at that. His only saving grace is the fact that bathing has always relaxed him, meaning he's bathed so many times in the past week that he doubts he's ever going to get rid of the scent of that bubble bath Maaya had given him for Christmas last year.

So in simpler words, he smells like roses and looks like shit and he really fucking hopes it's enough to drive Reita away because he's not sure he'll be able to keep himself from crying if he sees the dom.

There's more knocking and Uruha trips over himself to go get it. 

Except it's not Reita.

Instead it's Ruki, hand poised to knock again, and Kai, holding a big brown paper bag. Uruha is so surprised, he forgets how to speak for a moment. He just hopes his appearance works on them instead. 

It doesn't seem to. 

Ruki waltzes in, kicking off his shoes. "Hey Uru. We know you've been sick so we figured we'd come over, give you a little pick me up. Kai made soup, and I brought wine because why not-" he hums, walking into Uruha's apartment and making himself at home. Uruha shouldn't be surprised, this is very Ruki, but he's still very much at a loss for what to do. Kai seems a little more remorseful, following Ruki inside with an apologetic smile. Once the switch is in the other room, Kai toes off his shoes and Uruha turns to look at Kai, promptly freezing in his tracks.  

"Sorry to intrude, but were all pretty worried about you. I hope you don't mind," he says and Uruha wants to reply but his mouth is dry. 

Kai's so...  _Dom_ , for lack of a better word. 

And Uruha's not sure how he didn't notice it before, but now he has and it has his sub screaming, clawing at his ribs to get to the drummer. 

He knows he doesn't want Kai, not the way he wants Reita, but it still makes him sick with guilt. Just being in the presence of a dom is making his instincts go haywire and he wants Kai to leave but he can't make himself say it because the dom is being so nice coming over with soup and he doesn't want to be  _that_ ungrateful asshole but also because he's pretty sure once he opens his mouth he's either going to start begging or crying and he doesn't want to do either.

So instead he forces a small smile and nods, closing the door and walking out to the kitchen where Ruki has already gotten out glasses and a bowl. Kai puts the bag on the kitchen counter, reaching in to take out a container of soup and a bottle of Rosé. Ruki immediately reaches for the wine, pouring three glasses as Kai puts the soup in a pot to heat it up. Uruha isn't sure what to do with himself until Ruki starts fussing over him, shuffling him into the bedroom to put on sweatpants (also "not" Reita's), and then out to the couch, where the switch wraps him in as many blankets as possible. Uruha guesses his appearance worked because they really do seem to think he's sick, even though he hasn't so much as sneezed since they got here.

He is happy to see them. He feels like he hasn't see much of anyone but his therapist for the past four months, and he's touched that they did this for him. But Kai is too much and it's not his fault but he needs to leave. And thus, Ruki needs to leave too. But Uruha's too fucking chicken to say so, and it doesn't seem like that's going to happen anytime soon anyways, so Uruha sinks into the blankets and decides to roll with the punches. 

The two come out the kitchen a little bit later, wine and soup in hand. Ruki sits on the couch at Uruha's feet and Kai sits in the armchair across from them. When Uruha reaches for his glass of wine, Ruki tsks and shakes his head. 

"Nope. Soup first, wine later," he says firmly, handing him the bowl. Uruha's almost thankful for the excuse to not talk as he hurriedly starts spooning the soup into his mouth.

It's good, and it makes him feel worse for wanting Kai to leave.

"So, I should update you on the happenings at the studio," Ruki hums, unperturbed by Uruha's silence. Uruha can feel Kai watching him worriedly and it's making him feel kind of suffocated, so the sub welcomes the distraction. 

"So we finished recordings for tracks seven, eight, and nine. All we have left is ten and the outro, and we figured you could just do your recordings once you feel better, so don't worry about being behind," Ruki hums, swirling his wine. "I have a good feeling about this album," he adds, smiling at Uruha. "It feels very real, don't you think?"

Uruha can only nod as he finishes the soup, then reaches for the wine. The switch sits up, leaning over to check that Uruha's bowl really is empty before nodding in satisfaction. Uruha feels himself blush a little at his friend's thoughtfulness. 

"Oh!" Ruki leans back suddenly, eyes excited. "And big news - Manager-san mentioned a possible tour following the release of the album." Uruha's eyes widen. He can feel his heart stop but the switch doesn't notice, continuing on. "Nothing is set in stone cause we have to have an official band meeting and decision, but he says there's even possibilities of a world tour. Wouldn't that be amazing? It would have even more dates than last time, too!" Ruki hums excitedly.

Uruha can't match his excitement. 

The last live they had performed is still stuck in his head. The whole ordeal had been traumatizing, to say the least, and he feels even less stable now than he had then. And that had been a domestic tour. 

How the fuck is supposed to handle a world tour? 

He's going to fuck this up for sure.

Uruha feels like crying again.

But fuck, he's so fucking tired of fucking crying.

Ruki finally seems to notice his silence, pausing his rambling to look at the sub. "Hey, you okay? Do you want us to stop talking? Do you want us to go?" 

"Uruha, we can go if you need your rest. Ruki let's go," Kai says. There's a hint of a command in Kai's voice, barely enough to do more than grab the switch's attention, but to Uruha it's like a kick to the gut. He knows Kai doesn't mean to do it; he's used to speaking to Ruki, who as a switch is less susceptible to his command, but it's still too much and all at once, it snaps.

"I'm fucking fine-" he chokes out because he's focusing so fucking hard on not crying. Ruki's eyes widen and he puts down the wine, standing and slowly making his way over to Uruha. The way he's approaching him reminds Uruha of someone approaching a wild animal and it makes him feel worse.

"You don't look fine, Kouyou, it's okay, we can go if you want-" Ruki says and despite how he's feeling, suddenly Uruha really doesn't want him to go. He doesn't want to be alone, not again, because when he's alone all he can think of is how much of a fuck up he is and how fucking tired of him the rest of the band must be. 

He doesn't want Ruki to leave him.

But Kai needs to go. Uruha loves Kai, but he needs to go.

Uruha shakes his head at Ruki's question and looks up at him, eyes begging him silently to please not leave him. The switch is still looking at him worriedly, but his shoulders relax and he sinks to sit on the coffee table, not taking his eyes off the sub. 

"Are you sure?" He asks softly and Uruha nods, feeling relief fill his chest that Ruki understands. "Okay, okay, we won't leave you." He reaches a hand out to place on Uruha's shoulder, waiting for the sub to nod in permission before he does so, squeezing gently. It's comforting, and Uruha can feel himself start to relax. 

Then Kai steps forward as well, and Uruha can't stop himself from flinching. Horror wells up in his chest and he looks down at his lap in shame, afraid of what he'll see if he looks up at the dom. He wants to apologize but he can't make himself say it. If he opens his mouth, he's going to snap again and he can't do that to Kai.

Luckily Ruki understands. Uruha watches in quiet gratification as Ruki turns to Kai, hand not leaving Uruha's shoulder. 

"Kai, baby, go home." 

"W-" Kai starts to say something but Ruki doesn't let him.

"I love you, go away," he says firmly and Uruha almost laughs. Leave it to Ruki to be so brash. There's a moment of silence before Uruha hears Kai sigh and kiss the top of Ruki's head.

"Feel better Uruha," he says quietly before turning and walking to the entryway. Neither he nor Ruki move until the sound of the door shutting echoes through the apartment, and then Uruha feels like he can finally breathe.

"I'm sorry-" he chokes out but Ruki just smiles, squeezing his shoulder again.

"Don't you worry your pretty big head over him," he hums. "He understands. Maybe not right this second, but once he goes home and licks his wounds, he will." The switch sounds one hundred percent sure of himself and Uruha guesses if anyone is going to know, it's Ruki, so he lets himself be soothed by the fact. Ruki is the next one to break the silence.

"You're not really sick, are you?" he asks gently and Uruha winces in shame before shaking his head. He has half a mind to apologize but something tells him Ruki understands this as well, just like everything else. 

"You wanna talk about it?" he asks softly. 

"I'm tired of talking," Uruha admits, feeling a little more sure of his voice now that the dom is gone. "It doesn't work."

"It doesn't work? Are you not talking to your therapist?"

"Not anymore."

"But I thought things were going well with her?" 

Ruki probably feels like he's pulling teeth right now but Uruha can't bring himself to say more than a few words in response. Like he said, he's tired of talking. 

"I can't trust her anymore."

The words catch Ruki off guard. He sputters. "Can't - can't what?"

"I realized she was lying to me about a lot of things," Uruha says softly. 

"Shit man. What did she lie to you about?" Ruki's moved from sitting on the coffee table to sitting on the carpet in front of the couch, his head perched in the palm of his hand and it's actually kinda cute. 

And it kinda works in getting Uruha to loosen up and speak. 

"She..." he tries to think of how to word it. "She convinced me to pursue someone that I shouldn't have pursued." He hasn't told anyone in the band about his crush on Reita. He can only imagine their disgust. 

"Were they married!?" Ruki gasps. 

"What? What the fuck, no - why would I even - no!" Uruha sputters and Ruki makes a face as well this time. 

"Oh. Then why shouldn't you have pursued them?" 

"They're too good for me," he says like it's obvious but Ruki gasps again.

"Impossible!" He announces and Uruha can't help but giggle at the singer's teasing.

"Stop," he hums, then grows somber again. "I'm serious."

"Who is it?" Ruki asks, diverting the subject a bit and Uruha blushes suddenly. 

"I can't tell you-" he squirms and Ruki laughs, poking him. 

"Why not?" He grins and Uruha pouts.

"Because you'll make fun of me-" He says, but it's only half truth. Ruki puts his head on his hands, crossed on the couch, batting his eyes up at Uruha.

"How about I guess?" He asks, and just because Uruha knows Ruki and knows he won't stop until he gets what he wants, Uruha sighs and gives in.

"Fine. But you only get three guesses." Ruki grins.

"Easy peasy. Okay. Up first, is it me?" he teases. "Because who doesn't love me?" 

Uruha rolls his eyes but can't stop himself from smiling. "Shut up. That's a guess wasted." 

"Okay!" Ruki seems unbothered. "Next... Kai? God - it's not Kai, is it?" He pretends to gasp and look worried, but Uruha knows he's still teasing.

"God no, he's all yours," Uruha laughs. "But seriously, that's two guesses out of three that you just tossed in the trash-" Uruha feels a little victorious. Ruki's never going to get it at this rate.

"I know," Ruki hums. "But I'm just teasing. I already know who it is." 

Uruha's blood runs cold. There's no way-

"Uruha, we all know you have a thing for Reita."

Fuck. Fuck fucking fuck how the fuck did they know-

"W-" Uruha stutters in shock and Ruki smiles at him.

"You're like super obvious. It's cute. You get all blushy and stuttery whenever he talks to you - have been since we got back from the tour - and your eyes always get super wide when he flexes without meaning to - it's like disgustingly adorable." 

Uruha doesn't think it's adorable. Uruha's freaking out. "D-does Reita know? Did you tell him?" He grabs Ruki's arm, eyes wide with panic. If it's that obvious then Reita obviously knows which means he knows Uruha lied and he knows that Uruha's head over heels for him and FUCK this is bad-

"Woah-" Ruki's eyes widen as well. "Woah, chill, nobody told him. He definitely doesn't know," Ruki reassures him. 

Uruha puts his face in his hands, taking deep shaky breaths to try and calm himself down. "Fuck," he breathes out shakily. "Oh my god don't scare me like that-" 

"Sorry." Ruki doesn't seem sorry at all. "You said you pursued him though?" He asks excitedly and Uruha quickly shakes his head. 

Nope. He's not talking about that today.

"That was bad, we're not going to talk about that, and besides, it went right over his head. But that doesn't matter anyways because I'm never going to do it again." 

Ruki pouts. "Why not? You should go for it! I believe in you!" 

"I already said, he's too good for me," Uruha says seriously and Ruki sputters. 

"Too good -  _what?"_ He gapes. "Uruha, you two are literally perfect for each other. You're like soulmates or some shit-"

Uruha gives him an unimpressed glare. 

"He deserves a sub that's not a fucking mess," he says, fidgeting under the mass of blankets. 

"Not a - not - fucking - alright-" Ruki says suddenly, standing up. "I'm done being nice, stay here," he says before running off in the direction of Uruha's bedroom. Uruha sits up in surprise but before he can say anything, Ruki's back, holding a bright orange something in his hands.

"Your therapist is probably not allowed to do this, most likely because it would be considered assault and battery, but as your friend and resident band bitch, I'm gonna do this," he hums, sitting down in the armchair that Kai had previously occupied, and Uruha recognizes the object in his hands as the orange nerf gun his nephew had left at his place last new year. 

"What the fuck-" Uruha starts but Ruki ignores him. 

"Pretend I'm your therapist. Talk to me." 

"I'm not going to pretend you're my therapist, she's the worst - ow!" Uruha reaches up to rub his arm where the foam bullet had hit him. "Ruki, what the hell?" 

"She doesn't sound like a liar to me. What did she lie to you about?"

Uruha's answering before he can think not to. "She said I should ask Reita to drop me but she lied, I shouldn't have because he's too good for me - ow! Ruki fucking stop it-" 

The switch ignores him. 

"You should ask Reita out."

"No-" Another shot. Uruha crosses his arms across his chest to protect himself, anger simmering in his gut.

"Ask him out."

"No, he deserves better than - Ruki!" Uruha has to duck his head this time. 

"Shut up, you're a catch and you two belong together. Say it."

"No, I'm not a fucking liar-!"

Ruki shoots him again. "Say it!"

"No - Ow, fuck!"

"Say it!" Ruki shouts this time, reloading bullets into the nerf gun. 

Uruha opens his mouth to protest again but Ruki raises the gun quickly and the sub cant help but flinch. "Fine!" He growls, not wanting to get shot again. "Fine, I might be good enough for him-"

"Correction! You are good enough-"

Uruha ignores him. "But even if I was-" Uruha holds up a finger. "-Don't fucking shoot - even if I was, he doesn't want me - ow! Ruki I said don't fucking shoot!" Ruki ignores him and shoots him again, this time in the cheek. 

"Wrong! I know for a fact that he spends every minute of every day dreaming about kissing your ducky lips!" Ruki announces and Uruha can't help himself, he flushes, even though he knows the words aren't true. 

"Shut the fuck up, don't fucking lie to me," Uruha growls, pissed out of his mind now. He can't believe the audacity of the situation, that Ruki's just sitting there shooting him with foam bullets and acting like this is okay, and that he's just letting him. 

"I'm not. He's told me himself. But that's fine, you're not going to believe it from anyone but him, I get that. But dude, holy fuck does he want to kiss your ducky lips. Moving on!" Ruki's having way too much fun with this. "What else has she lied to you about?"

"She said being a sub isn't something to be ashamed of."

Ruki scoffs. "And that's a lie because?"

It's Uruha's turn to scoff. "Because being a sub fucking sucks - I fucking swear to god-!" This bullet hits him in the chest, right over the heart. 

"Wrong! Society may treat subs like shit and that sucks but you should never be ashamed of who you are!" 

"Shut the fuck up, you're a switch! You don't get to tell me how to feel about being a sub!" He waits for the bullet but Ruki shrugs instead.

"Maybe you're right. But still, I think society is the one that should be ashamed, not you. You're a damn good sub, Uruha, and you should be proud of yourself. Love yourself, dude." 

Uruha is caught off guard, his jaw hanging open. Is Ruki fucking crazy? 

Then a bullet flies by his ear and he's pissed again. "What the fuck was that one for?" 

"It was for staring at me like a dumbass when you know I'm right. MOVING ON!" 

Uruha's gonna fucking punch him.

"What else has she "lied" to you about?" Ruki makes air quotes to emphasize that he thinks Uruha is fucking stupid for thinking she's lying. 

Uruha racks his brain, reeling a bit from everything that's happening right now.

He's not going to talk about Kenta right now, not with Ruki holding a gun.

"She said I'm not a dumbass."

Ruki pauses. "Okay, yeah, I'm gonna disagree with that one because you definitely are a dumbass-" 

Uruha starts. "Then why the fuck would I deserve-" Ruki cuts him off with another bullet. 

"Because you're both dumbasses and you're perfect for each other, shut the fuck up!" Ruki laughs.

"Fuck you-" Uruha spits.

"That's Kai's job." Ruki shoots him again, this one bouncing off his forehead and now Uruha's fucking done. Ruki's just playing with him at this point and it doesn't hurt, per say, but it's hitting too close to home.

The sub stands, disentangling himself from the blankets rather ungracefully before marching over to Ruki. The switch has the good sense to look a little terrified and he lands another shot to his stomach before he reaches him but Uruha doesn't care, snatching the gun out of his hand.

"This isn't a fucking joke Ruki-" He growls, marching back to his bedroom to put the gun back in his closet. Ruki scrambles up, following him.

"Alright alright, I got a little carried away, I'm sorry, but dude! I'm serious! I really think you should reconsider telling Reita how you feel!" 

Uruha glares at him and slams the closet door shut. "I don't." 

"No - no, listen to me." Ruki grabs his shirt and Uruha almost laughs at the fucking guts this switch has. "You really like Reita, right?"

Uruha doesn't answer but he doesn't need to. 

"And he really likes you. I know you don't believe me but just hear me out. He really, really likes you. Like a lot. I can't possibly express how much he really fucking likes you, it's like disgusting." 

Uruha tries to ignore the way the words flutter in his stomach.

"You said you pursued him and it went over his head, so did he reject you?" 

Uruha squirms. "I mean... not exactly-"

"Then you should ask him out," Ruki says softly. "Or at least talk to him." 

Uruha bites his lip. "Well..." 

"Well, yes!" Ruki says firmly and tugs on his shirt. Uruha's always wondered if it's possible to love and hate someone at the same time. Looking down at Ruki, he thinks he's found his answer. 

"Ruki-" 

"And talk to your therapist, man, she knows her shit. I know you're kind of floundering right now but-" He sighs. "Recovery is a really long fucking road. And you're making progress, it seems to you like you have so far to go but Uruha! You've gone so far! We can see it. She's helping you."  

Uruha narrows his eyes at Ruki who stares back, dead serious and unmovable. 

"Fuckin fine," the sub finally caves.

"Say the words."

"I'll talk to Reita, and I'll give my therapist another chance," he grumbles. Ruki grins smugly.

"Thank you! Now was that really so hard?" he hums.

Uruha wants to say _yes, it was really fuckin hard_ , but he can't. Because truthfully, it was pretty easy.

Way too easy. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the angst is almost over ;-;
> 
> Updates may come a little more infrequently from now on because classes have started up for me again and I need to focus on my academics and the upcoming year. I will do my best to keep updating as often as possible! Thank you for understanding, and thank you for reading <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed

Uruha goes back to therapy.

He caves and goes back to therapy because after three days of laying in bed with an  _actual_ cold, staring at the framed photograph of him, Maaya, and Asako on his nightstand, the orange of the nerf gun glaring at him from the corner of his eye, he realizes how fucking  _lonely_ it is to be angry. He's spent a whole year being angry at himself and being angry at the universe, and it's so tiring. He's tired of crying, he's tired of feeling lost, but most of all, he's tired of being angry.

And he's so fucking tired of being alone.

He might not believe everything Ruki had said, but damn if it didn't feel good to pretend; Pretend that he isn't worthless, he isn't scum, he's a sub and he's proud of it. And there is a small part of him, an inkling of hope, that maybe he doesn't have to pretend anymore. 

So he goes back to therapy. He apologizes to his therapist who at first is confused as to why he's apologizing, but then reassures him that everything is okay, that this is all a part of the road to recovery, and as long as he didn't hurt himself or anyone else, it's gonna be okay. It soothes Uruha, and once again he begins the journey towards recovery. 

And this time, it's different. 

It's different because he's not doing it for his sister. He's not doing it for Reita, or doing it out of spite, or out of some obligation to the universe. 

He's doing it for himself. 

His therapist tells him that she's proud of him, and Uruha thinks that if Kenta were here to see this, he would be too. 

 

* * *

 

 

When Uruha's sinuses have cleared up enough to go back to the studio, he does. He's still a little overheated and clammy, and he's sure he looks like he hitchhiked his way to Russia and back without a coat, but the others are happy to see him. Kai gives him a pat on the back and Uruha tries to apologize for the other day but he doesn't let him, and Uruha doesn't even get the chance to insist as Aoi walks in, cheering loudly at the sight of his fellow guitarist. Uruha is whisked away to talk about lead lines, and the elder actually has the gall to pinch his cheeks as he tells him he's happy to have him back, as if Uruha's face doesn't already feel bloated enough. It's okay though, his face feels bloated but his heart feels warm, and he dives back into his work with Aoi eagerly. 

They're talking about solos when Reita saunters in the studio with coffee for everyone and Uruha's heart flutters. When the bassist spots him, his expression lights up and Uruha feels himself brighten as well. Reita walks over with open arms and he melts into them gladly, smile on his face. The sub lets his chin rest on Reita's shoulder. He can smell Reita's cologne. He's so warm and it feels like home and even though it's been less than two weeks since they saw each other, Uruha missed him, dammit. He makes a mental note to stop being a dumbass and shutting himself away whenever something goes wrong because fuck, Uruha missed Reita so fucking much. 

"How are you feeling?" Reita asks when they pull away from each other and Uruha can't stop the blush that appears on his cheeks. 

"Much better," he hums, and it's true in every sense of the words. He can feel himself grinning and it doesn't feel forced and it makes him feel like he's on top of the world. Reita grins as well and it sends a flurry of butterflies through Uruha's stomach.

"I'm glad. I was worried." 

Uruha flushes further and behind Reita, Ruki's grinning and making lewd gestures, but Uruha can't find it in himself to be mad or embarrassed. Suddenly emboldened, Uruha's speaking before he realizes what he's saying. 

"Do you want to have dinner tonight? I have something that I want to talk to you about." 

He does? Oh. He didn't know that. Even Ruki looks surprised, then he's grinning, but Reita is unaffected, smiling widely. 

"Yeah! I'll cook, if you want to come over," he hums and Uruha nods, chest buzzing.

"Sounds good," he says, a little shyly, but if Reita notices he doesn't say anything. Uruha knows he's smiling dumbly at the dom but he doesn't have anything else to say and he can't break away from Reita's gaze and besides, Reita isn't moving either, smiling at him as well. 

The moment breaks when Kai clears his throat and they both jump, breaking the eye contact. Uruha's sure he's red as a stop sign by now but he's lucky that Reita doesn't seem to notice, walking over to the table to start doling out coffee. Uruha wiggles excitedly when Reita hands him his, but when he takes a sip he's met with a nasty surprise. He makes an involuntary face. 

"What is this?!" 

Reita laughs. "It's decaf tea! Caffeine is bad for you when you're sick!" Reita scolds gently, a smile on his face. Uruha scowls at him, ignoring how his heart swoons at the dom's thoughtfulness. 

He needs his daily caffeine and coffee intake and Reita has the gall-

Uruha takes another hesitant sip. It's not too bad. He'll take it, but not willingly (Reita's puppy dog eyes have absolutely  _nothing_ to do with it). He sips his tea again, scowling at Reita over the rim of his cup but Reita just beams and Uruha can't find it in himself to stay mad. 

The next minute Aoi is dragging him over to finish their discussion on leads and their manager bursts through the door. Uruha sips his tea and grabs his guitar. 

He's been unfocused for too long.

It's time to get working.

 

* * *

 

 

Uruha arrives at Reita's place at eight o'clock sharp. He doesn't want to be late; not for this particular conversation. 

He's dressed relatively nice – not so fancy that Reita would notice something's up, but he's not in sweats either. His hair is brushed and down, in case he needs to hide behind something. He's carrying a bag in his left hand with Reita's favorite wine and chocolates, and he hopes it's not too straightforward. 

More than anything, he hopes that Ruki is right. 

Because what if Reita  _doesn't_ feel the same way? What if Ruki had been wrong and Reita just cares for him as his best friend? What if in admitting his feelings, Uruha drives Reita away? 

Uruha's not sure if he'd be able to survive that. 

He's interrupted from his worries by the door sweeping open, Reita, clad in a button up shirt and apron, greeting him. 

Fuck, he looks hot like that.

Uruha can't help but feel a little starstruck as Reita beams at him, stepping aside to let him in. He hums a greeting as he steps inside, trying to shake off the nervous energy in his chest. After toeing off his shoes, he holds the bag up to Reita. 

"I brought these, figured we could have them after dinner." His cheeks are tinted pink, he can feel himself blushing, and he hopes it's not over the top. Reita doesn't seem to mind, humming appreciatively at the chocolate. 

"Thanks, Uru." The two walk into the kitchen where Reita immediately starts tending to a pan with stir fry. "It's almost done, I hope you don't mind that I went for something a little simpler tonight," he hums as he starts stirring again. 

Uruha sits at the kitchen island. "I don't mind at all." He's swooning. Reita's turned to face the stove, so Uruha takes the opportunity to admire Reita as he works, sleeves rolled up past his elbows, broad beautiful back on full display. Uruha's not sure if he's salivating at the delicious smell or the delicious sight, but he enjoys it while he can. They make small talk as Reita cooks, talking about everything from the album to the books Reita's reading, to how Asako, Dai and Maaya are doing. He appreciates the small talk and his inner sub preens at the effortless conversation between the two of them. It helps make him less nervous.

Next Reita's turning to him with two plates, placing them on the island. Uruha pulls himself to his feet, grabbing them chopsticks and some water while Reita cleans up. They'd normally have beer with dinner, but they're probably going to have wine later and Uruha wants to be as clear headed as possible for "The conversation". If Reita notices anything, he doesn't say.

When it's finally time to eat, Uruha digs in eagerly, absolutely starving. He had been too nervous to eat earlier and he'd thought he would be now as well, but something about Reita's presence has always helped calm him down. It's enough that he's able to stomach most of his plate.

"You're looking a lot better," Reita says softly after a moment, chopsticks halfway to his mouth and a small smile on his lips like he just realized it.

Uruha flushes hard, and swallows the food in his mouth. It should be a question that throws him off guard but instead he finds it easy to answer, lips pulled into a small smile. "I feel better," he admits. 

Reita seems surprised by his answer for a moment before his smile widens. "Really?" 

Uruha nods."I still struggle sometimes," he admits a little shyly. "But I'm doing a lot better." 

Reita nods in agreement. "I can tell. Something about you just seems..." it's his turn to flush and it makes butterflies erupt in Uruha's stomach. "It just seems different. What changed?" 

Uruha looks down at his plate and shrugs a bit. "I don't know," he says softly. "I think I just realized that I wasn't being honest with myself. There were a lot of negative emotions that I was holding on to but refusing to accept, and I think I realized that if I wanted to feel better, I needed to accept the truth and I also needed to _want_ to feel better," he hums. Reita's nodding along and a glance up tells Uruha that Reita's  _really_ listening to him, he  _really_ cares, and it makes it easier to keep going. "I realized that I was going to therapy and making all these changes because I..." he bites his lip and flushes, but he's not nervous which is odd. He rolls with it anyways. "I wanted to make you happy. And I wanted to make you proud of me and I wanted to make Asako stop worrying. And I wasn't really doing it for myself. But now I am. Doing it for myself, that is," he finishes with a small smile. Then he glances up, and is immediately taken off guard because Reita is positively _beaming._

The dom's lips are stretched wide in a genuine smile, eyes shining and Uruha's breath leaves him a soft gasp. His heart is suddenly pumping madly in his chest and he feels a little woozy because Reita looks so goddamn beautiful like that and it's all for _him._  Uruha made him smile like that, he made him proud, and fuck, it feels so fucking good. Fuck all that preaching about not doing this to make Reita happy, if this is what it's like to know he made Reita smile, he'd make that speech a thousand times a day. 

Uruha's broken out of his reverie by the scraping of Reita's chair as the bassist actually walks over to him, scooping him up into a hug. Uruha's caught off guard for a moment, but then he melts into his arms, hoping Reita can't hear how fast his heart is beating because god, Reita's hugs are like crack and god, Uruha's a fucking mess. 

"I'm so proud of you," Reita whispers, hugging him tightly and Uruha preens at the words, physically restraining himself from burying his nose in Reita's neck and breathing in the scent of his cologne. He doesn't know what to say to that, he's feeling a little overwhelmed and so fucking happy, so instead he just presses his face to Reita's shoulder and hugs back tightly. He's sure Reita gets that he's grateful. Reita always knows what he means, even when he can't say it. "I know you said you aren't doing this to make me proud, but I'm proud," Reita murmurs with a soft chuckle, breath fanning his ear and Uruha can't stop smiling.

"Thank you," he whispers, squeezing him a little tighter. Reita squeezes back. Uruha never wants this moment to end. 

"Are you done eating?" Uruha nods against Reita's shoulder. "Let's move to the couch." 

The sub pulls away (a little reluctantly) and nods, standing and picking up his plate. The two of them clean up the dishes and Reita pours the wine as Uruha sets the blankets and pillows up on the couch. Once they're settled, Uruha stretched out with his feet in Reita's lap, Reita turns on the tv for some white noise. The scene is so domestic it makes Uruha's heart beat faster. Reita's hand is on his ankle, squeezing gently and he's smiling at him.

Then everything stops.

Uruha's throat closes up. 

He could lose this.

He and Reita aren't even together, so technically speaking, he doesn't have "this".

But he still can't bear the thought of possibly losing it. 

The nerves come back.

"So, you wanted to talk about something?" Reita asks gently, fingers fiddling with the hem of Uruha's pants. Uruha's fingers itch to reach out and down his entire glass of wine, but he knows he shouldn't. He briefly wonders if Reita is as nervous as him, before his own nerves get the best of him.

He can't do this. If he does this and Reita doesn't feel the same way, that's it. He loses him. He loses his best friend.

He can't lose Reita.

But he promised Ruki he'd do this. He promised himself he'd do this. He deserves to be happy (right?). Maybe. 

Uruha pulls the sleeves of his shirt over his hands and starts fiddling with his rings. He's so nervous, his heart is going a mile a minute, but he has to do this. He opens his mouth.

"Remember when I was an asshole and I came over drunk and like yelled at you and shit?" The words come out too fast for anyone to understand, but after years of carefully decrypting Uruha's nervous speech, Reita gets it right off the bat. He smiles and chuckles a bit.

"Shima, you already apologized for that, and I already forgave you," he hums in amusement, squeezing Uruha's ankle again. Uruha shakes his head, hands shaking too. 

"Remember when you asked me-" he swallows. "-when you asked me if I came because I wanted to get dropped or because I wanted you to drop me?" 

He should really stop talking so fast but he can't help it – he's got to get this out now or he never will.

Reita nods, his face suddenly turning concerned. "Hey," he says softly, shifting closer to Uruha so now his calves are in his lap instead of his feet. Uruha's heart beats faster (if that's even possible). "Are you okay? Shima, you don't need to be nervous, it's just me." 

But that's exactly the problem.

One of Reita's hands is on his knee now, squeezing gently, and the other reaches for his own hands, gently tugging on them to get him to stop fidgeting so violently. "Take a breath," Reita says softly. "It's okay." 

It's not okay. Where would Uruha be without Reita? The answer is no where. What is his future without Reita by his side? The answer is nothing.

Uruha can't lose him.

"IliedIwantedyoutodropme."

"Okay-" Reita pauses this time. "-that was too fast, even for me." He squeezes Uruha's knee. "You want to try again?" Uruha can't look him in the eye. He should stop now. 

"I lied, I wanted you to drop me." He's still talking, why is he still talking? He can't hear his own voice over the pounding of his heartbeat. This is a mess. 

At this, Reita actually looks surprised. 

"Oh-" he says softly, eyes wide. Uruha's heart stops. He fucked up. "What do you mean? Why me?" Reita asks slowly and yup, Uruha can't do this. 

He can't tell Reita about his feelings, how fucking dumb is he? There's no way anyone, let alone Reita, could feel that way for him. Fuck this, fuck Ruki, fuck himself.

He's gonna lose Reita.

He can't let that happen.

Abort mission.

 

"You're my best friend." Uruha looks down at his hands because he can't lie to Reita, not to his face. "You're the only dom I really trust. You've always had my back. I've-" he swallows thickly. "-I've only made it this far because I've had you by my side. You're my best friend. I love you," he says, but the context is all wrong and it makes his throat close up and his stomach squirm and he holds back tears. "I-I trust you Reita. And if you would have me... I would be honored if you would drop me."

He finally finishes, his voice wavering at the end, and he's suddenly left wondering how things went so wrong so fast. He was feeling fine ten minutes ago, and now he's a fucking disaster. That wasn't a downwards slope, that was a fucking cliff.

Reita's quiet for a minute. Uruha starts chewing on his lips, but he can't look up, he can't bear the look of disgust on Reita's face. He's sure his blood pressure is through the roof at this point. After a moment, Reita speaks.

"You mean, like once? Or like long term?"

Uruha doesn’t know whether to be honest anymore. What’s the right answer? What’s the answer that’s going to make Reita stay?

He hates that he doesn’t know. 

"L-long term," Uruha forces out. The dom is quiet for another minute and it feels like a year has passed before he speaks again. 

"So you're talking like the sub-dom equivalent of a friends-with-benefits type thing?" He asks, and there's something odd about Reita's voice that Uruha can't quite place but he knows this is it, this is when Reita will push him away, tell him to get out and never speak to him again. He squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to nod. 

There's a lifetime of silence, then- 

"Okay."

Uruha's heart stops. He blinks, and then slowly looks up.

"What?"

"I said, okay. Let's do this," Reita says softly, squeezing his knee again. If Uruha wasn't freaking out, he probably would have heard the slight tremble of Reita's voice, but he's freaking out, so he doesn't. 

A wave of relief crashes over him, and suddenly, he's drowning in the best way possible. 

He could cry. "I-Are you sure?"

Then Reita smiles and all of Uruha's worries are out the door. "Of course, Shima," the dom says softly. "I'd be honored to," he adds and Uruha lets out a rushed breath, putting his head in his hands. He needs a moment. His chest is suddenly bursting with relief and he should be upset that he doesn't have the fucking guts to tell Reita his feelings but all he can focus on is that he still has Reita. He finally asked Reita to drop him, he finally took the plunge, and he still has him.

Reita chuckles softly. "Are you okay?" He murmurs and Uruha can only nod and do his best not to cry tears of happiness. "Come here." The dom tugs on his arm, and then his waist, maneuvering Uruha so that he's not quite in his lap, but close enough to wrap his arms around him. "You're okay," he muses, holding Uruha close and the sub can't stop himself from laughing tearily and pressing his face to Reita's chest. "I can't believe you were so nervous about that," Reita teases and Uruha lightly punches him in the chest. 

"Shut up-" he laughs. He feels disgusting for lying and Ruki's going to skin him alive for it, but he still has Reita and that's what matters. 

"Sorry-" Reita hums, amused. Uruha doesn't believe him but he doesn't care.

"Thank you," the sub whispers, squeezing him a little tighter. The dom just chuckles and rubs his back. 

"So when do you want to start?" 

The question surprises Uruha. He pulls away a bit to look Reita in the eye, blushing. 

"I mean, I guess whenever you want to?" he hums. Reita blushes as well and shrugs. God, they're both blushing messes. What are they, seven? 

"I have to admit, I don't know much about dropping," he says shyly and Uruha suddenly flushes bright red, his heart stuttering.

Shit. 

He didn't think of that. 

He blushes harder. "Shit- I- I mean, if you don't want to-" 

Reita's eyes widen and he shakes his head. "No, no-" Uruha's sure if the dom wasn't already bright red, he'd be blushing. He's in the same boat. "I want to, I just..." he looks down and says in a small voice, "I don't want to mess up."

Uruha's heart bursts with sudden fondness. Reita's so fucking cute.

"Rei," he hums, holding back a chuckle. "You're not going to mess up. You didn't mess up the first time. You just have to listen to your instincts. I trust you." 

"I kind of messed up the first time-" Reita protests and Uruha chuckles.

"You didn't mess up the first time. You were too good and that was the problem," he teases and it makes them both blush again but the dom laughs, so Uruha counts it as a win. "Just trust yourself." 

Reita hesitates, but then sighs and nods. "Okay. But we have to talk about what you need, what you don't want... what triggers you-" Reita lists off firmly, and Uruha swoons at how perfect he is, how kind and caring he is for wanting to make sure Uruha is comfortable no matter what. The sub forces himself to nod despite his fluttering heart.

"I agree. Do you want to talk about that now...?"

"I mean, if we're going to do this today, then we should talk today," the dom says shyly, and Uruha nods and tries to think. 

"I don't have many triggers, just maybe don't leave me alone or say anything mean. Not that I think you'd do that-" 

Reita nods. "Don't leave you alone, got it." 

"And um..." Uruha blushes. "I get kind of touchy? I'm sorry for that in advance, but if you want me to stop, like tell me gently and I will. And um... I think that's it. Everything you did last time worked pretty well so..." Uruha doesn't mention his throat. He wonders if it's too intimate to ask Reita to touch him there, so he pushes the thought away. He can drop without it, probably.

Reita squeezes his hand and nods. "Okay. Um... so I guess we're doing this right now?" 

Uruha's heart starts pounding in excitement and he nods. "If that's okay. Could I maybe change into something more comfortable?" Dropping in jeans really isn't the best idea, he knows from experience. 

Reita nods quickly. "Why don't you go change and I can get out all the blankets? I know you get cold-" Reita stops himself mid sentence, blushing, and Uruha can't help but giggle again, heart fluttering. The sub forces himself to let go of Reita's hand and get off the couch, hurrying into Reita's room to change into a pair of the sweatpants he keeps at the dom's house, heart racing.

He can't believe this is happening.

Reita's actually going to drop him. 

He feels giddy. This is what he's been dreaming of for so long, and now it's finally happening. He's a little nervous too- but what does he have to be nervous about? This is Reita, he's known him all his life. He may have omitted some of the truth when explaining why he wanted Reita to drop him, but the essence of what he had said was true. There's no one he trusts more than Reita. 

Uruha shimmies on his sweatpants, a little extra wiggle in his hips, before hurrying back to the other room where Reita's sitting, twiddling his thumbs anxiously. 

"So, how do you want to do this?" 

Uruha blushes. "Can I-um... can I put my head on your thigh? It helps ground me," he admits shyly. His heart is racing at the thought of being curled up in Reita's lap. He tries not to show it too much. 

Reita blushes but nods, settling himself on the couch. "Go ahead."

The sub forces himself to take a deep breath before sitting on the couch next to Reita and slowly laying his head in his lap. 

The change is instantaneous. Uruha's body relaxes, mind calming as he settles against the dom. The scent of Reita's cologne surrounds him, and the sudden warmth has his inner sub shivering with want. 

God, he's wanted this so fucking bad. 

Reita's fingers gravitate to Uruha's hair, petting the top of his head, and it makes Uruha preen. He blushes. 

"Is this okay?" Reita asks hesitantly, and Uruha nods quickly. 

"Perfect," he hums, and he's almost embarrassed by the slight slur already present in his voice. His voice is always the first to go, the first sign that he's under, and it's already gone. Uruha briefly wonders if he had maybe already been going under when Reita had said yes, the relief of the acceptance sending his brain into a haze without him even realizing it.

Reita chuckles, gently starting to pet him. "So how does this work? Do I just talk to you?" 

Uruha hums, turning on his back so he can look Reita in the eye, fully intending to answer his question. He doesn't. The dom looks funny from upside down, and he can't stop the quiet laugh that escapes his lips. 

Reita hums in quiet amusement. "What are you laughing at?" 

Uruha can't help but giggle again. It's embarrassing how much of a giggly mess he is suddenly (and he's not even really in subspace yet) but he can't help it. "You look funny like this," he murmurs, gazing up at Reita. He's sure he looks positively in love, or maybe just dumb as fuck, but he doesn't have the heart to care. Reita laughs, tugging lightly on Uruha's hair to tease him.

"Don't be mean," he chastises gently. He sneaks a slight command into the words and Uruha can feel himself slipping further.

Sly dog, he knows exactly what he's doing.

Uruha blinks his eyes to keep them open. 

"I'm not being mean. I'm just telling the truth. It's a good kind of funny, don't worry," he hums. Reita laughs.

"Good kind of funny?"

Uruha nods. "Good kind of funny. Like... Like-like Cloud from Skyrim." Reita laughs again, but it's softer this time, more fond.

"You mean from Final Fantasy?" 

"Hmmmmmmmm, maybe." He can't remember. Rita's fingers brush against his forehead as the dom swipes his hair aside and it feels so nice, so soft. He's feeling so peaceful and safe and he hasn't felt this relaxed in so long. 

"Are you starting to slip?" Reita hums softly and Uruha has to close his eyes, nodding slightly. His chest feels heavy, not in a bad way, but in an exhausted, relaxed, could-lay-here-and-bask-for-three-thousand-years-way. He's breathing slowly and deeply and it feels so good that he doesn't want to speak, doesn't want to have to make the extra effort. Reita gently strokes his hair again. "That's okay. Go ahead and go under for me. Can you do that?" 

He wants to. He's so fucking close, but he needs the command. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He's too heavy.

But Reita understands. He always understands. 

"That's it. Be a good boy for me, and drop."

And just like that, the weight is gone, and Uruha is floating. 

 

* * *

 

Uruha's eyes are glazed over and he looks so goddamn beautiful, Reita’s in awe. He doesn't know what to do with himself.

If he wasn't feeling so euphoric, so grounded and collected and happy and just perfect, he'd probably be pretty conflicted. Uruha wants him, but he just wants him as a friend, but he wants him and he should be hesitant about this friends with benefits shtick because who ever heard of one of those going well? And there are a lot of emotions that Reita should be feeling right now, but he not feeling any of them. He's not thinking about any of that. 

He's not concerned with the logistics of all this, couldn't care less, because right now Uruha is staring up at him with glassy eyes and a tiny, sweet smile, and he looks so soft and angelic that Reita just barely stops himself from leaning over and kissing the sub silly. It's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life, so he's not feeling too broken up. 

Uruha doesn't love him, but if he can have this, he's happy. 

The subs makes a soft noise, breaking Reita out of his mental spiral. He turns, moving to lay on his side and reaching out to gently play with the hem of Reita's shirt. His movements are slow and sluggish but ever so gentle and Reita resists the urge to coo.

Uruha's mumbling now, something about the new limited edition distortion pedal he had bought while he was in Kanagawa. At first Reita wonders if Uruha's okay to be speaking or if it's a sign that he's nervous, but he seems fine so Reita lets him be, nodding and humming when the sub pauses and waits for Reita's answer. The dom keeps his fingers running through Uruha's hair gently, though he's not sure if it's more for Uruha's sake or his own. 

It's more than a few minutes before Uruha falls silent, trailing off mid-sentence. Reita gives him a couple of seconds, heart stuttering in his chest when Uruha licks his lips absentmindedly. 

"How are you feeling?" He asks softly, fingers tracing softly on Uruha's cheek. The sub preens, pressing his face to Reita's stomach.

"Good," he slurs. "So good. So happy. Thought you would say no-" he curls his fingers in Reita's shirt, almost as if he's still afraid Reita's going to leave, and Reita's heart squeezes. He can't help but sigh, absolutely lovestruck.

"I could never say no to you," the dom breathes before he even knows what he's saying but it doesn't matter because Uruha's beaming and it's the most beautiful thing Reita's ever seen in his life.

God, he's so in love, it's not even funny.

Uruha seems to lose his focus again, pressing his face back into Reita's shirt, so Reita gently brings him back in, just for a moment. "Hey," he murmurs softly, stroking his cheek. He can't seem to stop touching him. "How long do you want to stay under?"

"Forever," Uruha says immediately and Reita can barely stifle his chuckle.

"Forever? Can you be good for that long?" 

The sub nods. "I'll be good, I promise," he murmurs against Reita's stomach. "You'll see, I'll be  _so_ good for you-" 

Oh fuck.

The words ignite a fire in the pit of Reita's stomach but he quickly stifles it. Uruha's head is in his lap for god's sake, now is not the time to get excited down there. 

The dom swallows thickly and clears his throat. "I'm sure," he murmurs softly. "Well, just let me know when you want to come up, okay?" he hums softly, tucking the hair back behind Uruha's ear. The sub just makes a soft sound of content in response, but Reita supposes it's enough.

The two of them sit there for what feels like ages, with Uruha drifting between an odd sort of spacey half-sleep and a quiet admiration of Reita, and Reita half watching the tv, half watching Uruha. The wine and chocolates lay forgotten on the coffee table, both of them perfectly content without them. It's quiet and peaceful and everything Reita could ever have hoped for. He's never really fully dropped someone else before, but if this is what it's like, he can see why doms can get addicted.

It's intoxicating; the soft sound of Uruha's breath, the warmth of his body, the absolutely adorable way the sub whispers his name when he has a question. He’ll never understand how Uruha’s deep, rumbly voice is so low and yet still the cutest thing he’s ever heard in his life. Reita does his best to balance his gentle tone and commanding tone to keep Uruha under while not alarming him, and it's almost surprising how easy it is.

Huh.

Almost like it's instinct or something.

Or maybe it's just Uruha. Maybe it's just the ease of being with someone he's known his entire life. Maybe it's just the instinct of being with someone he knows better than himself. 

Maybe it's love. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for sticking around <3 Work and school piled up a lot faster than I thought it would, but I'm doing my best to keep at it!  
> Thank you all for your support <3  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed

A heaviness on his waist is what Uruha notices first when he wakes, eyes blinking heavily against the harsh sunlight filtering in through the blinds.

His tongue feels thick in his mouth. He’s not sure if he remembers brushing his teeth last night, and he definitely doesn’t remember climbing into bed let alone getting off the couch.

He doesn’t really remember much of anything, in fact.

It’s so warm that it’s almost too warm, but he relishes in the feeling. His mind is laden with the kind of fog one accumulates after sleeping for longer than 12 hours, heavy and deep and the sub can feel his eyes drifting closed again. He doesn’t fight it.

In fact, it feels kind of nice. Really nice. Kind of like-

Oh.

Kind of like subspace.

Uruha’s still under.

Well that’s never happened before.

Now that he’s noticed it, the fuzziness of his brain is more obvious. He feels soft and subdued, and full of peace. There’s a blanket of silence over the room, the sounds of the city outside completely muffled, and Uruha can hear with increasing clarity his own heart beat. There isn’t a tense muscle in his body, and for once his inner sub is completely silent. It would be scary if it didn’t feel so nice.

He lets his eyes flutter shut again, shimmying a little closer to the warmth against his back, and that’s when he really notices it.

Someone’s spooning him.

He blinks his eyes open again and takes a peek down at the familiar hand resting on his waist.

Reita’s spooning him.

The realisation sends a flurry of sparks through his chest.

It’s not like they haven’t cuddled before, or shared a bed, it’s just that this is _spooning._ That’s like next level relationship shit.

Just thinking of Reita wrapping his arms around him, pulling him close, nuzzling the back of his neck lovingly in his sleep, is enough to cause his cheeks to flush.

He has to take a deep breath to calm the fluttering of his heart, and then another when Reita shifts, arm curling tighter around him. The dom is definitely still asleep, there’s no way he’d be hugging Uruha’s back to his chest like this if he was awake. Uruha tries not to think about that. Instead he takes a moment, basking in the feeling of Reita’s arms around him. He should probably be worrying about the implications of all of this, but he’s not at all.

Guess that’s the magic of subspace.

He takes another calming breath before wiggling around to face the dom, too sub spacey to worry about personal spacey as he presses himself against the other.

It feels good - and not even in a sexual way. Reita’s warm and muscled and not soft but still comfy. He just feels good, like home.

Reita’s fast asleep, eyes closed and expression peaceful. He looks so handsome, Uruha can’t help but reach out, fingers brushing his cheek with a featherlight touch. Reita’s cheek is so soft.

Uruha swoons.

Suddenly his heart starts beating fast and his chest gets tight with affection for the dom.

His dom. His Reita.

Something in the back of his head reminds him that Reita isn’t his but he ignores it. Frankly, he doesn’t give a shit.

Uruha’s still stroking Reita’s cheek when the dom’s eyes flutter open. He should pull away, close his eyes, maybe feign sleep, but he doesn’t.

For a moment, the dom looks surprised, wide eyes searching Uruha’s, but it’s a testament to his control that he doesn’t pull away despite the absurdity of the moment. They lock gazes, and Uruha’s heart starts pounding again.

They’re so close.

Uruha briefly entertains the thought of kissing him.

It wouldn’t take much. Just a little lean forward, a little brush of their lips-

Then Reita flushes and breaks their gaze, hand reaching up to gently brush the hair out of Uruha’s face.

“You’re still under, aren’t you?”

His voice is a tad bit too loud and Uruha can’t keep himself from flinching, briefly breaking out of his revery.

Reita is quick to placate him though, fingers carding gently through soft hair. “Sorry,” he murmurs, softer and sweeter. His thumb brushes Uruha’s cheek as he tucks a bit of hair behind Uruha’s ear, and slowly the fuzziness returns. Uruha allows himself to sink back in, leaning into Reita’s touch, eyes fluttering. They’re starting to feel heavy again and he’s not surprised when the tendrils of sleep start wrapping around him once more.

“Do you want to come up, or stay under?” Reita murmurs as Uruha lets his eyes slide shut.

He makes a move to answer but finds he doesn’t have the energy. Just like last night, he’s feeling too heavy. Speaking takes a lot of effort.

Instead he leans his hand into Reita’s touch and scoots closer, cuddling up to the dom, who chuckles softly under his breath.

“Stay under?”

Uruha hears himself make a soft happy noise that he didn’t even intend to make, flushing red. Reita chuckles again.

“Sleep too?”

Uruha makes the same noise again, this time on purpose.

“Alright,” the dom cooes, wrapping his arms back around him.

Reita is just doing this for him because he’s in subspace, Uruha knows. He burrows closer to Reita’s chest, nose pressed to his shoulder. He’d better enjoy this while he can.

 

* * *

  

The next time Uruha wakes, he’s no longer in subspace. He can feel it immediately.

Everything is clearer. His inner sub is placated, not screaming, but not silent either. He can hear the sounds of the city outside and it’s still early in the morning but he hasn’t felt so well-rested in years. Reita’s still wrapped around him, cold toes pressed against his shin, and this time the realisation does more than send warm fuzzies through his chest.

Uruha feels his heart leap into his throat and he forces himself to keep his eyes closed. His head is pillowed on Reita’s arm, forehead pressed to the dom’s chest. He can hear Reita’s heartbeat, feel his breathing. It’s surreal. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, and yet, it’s not, because he has a tightness in his chest, a knowing that this could end at any minute.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted, but he can’t find it in himself to enjoy it.

“I know you’re awake.” Reita’s voice sends another spike of anxiety through his body. It’s low and gravely from sleep, and sexy as hell, but he can’t enjoy it. He forces the anxiety down, what he hopes is a cute pout appearing on his face. He scrunches his eyes shut.

Maybe if he pretends to still be sleepy and spacey, Reita will let them lie here a while longer.

The dom chuckles softly. “Shima~” his voice is sweet and lilting and there’s a bit of teasing in it. Uruha just presses his face to the pillow, which be belatedly remembers is actually Reita’s bicep. “Shima, it’s nine o’clock. We have to be at the studio in an hour,” the dom murmurs, amusement clear in his tone.

Uruha ignores him and grunts.

“If you get up, I’ll make you breakfast.”

“I don’t want breakfast. I want to stay here.” His voice comes out scratchy and unpleasant. He ignores it.

“If you get up, I’ll make you coffee.”

It’s a tempting offer.

“Fine. Give me two minutes. Go make my coffee.”

Reita chuckles. “You’re on my arm.”

Oh, right. Uruha flushes bright red and hides a sheepish smile as he moves his head quickly, pushing his face into the real pillow this time. He misses the fond look Reita gives him as the dom shifts to climb out of bed. Before he leaves, Reita pulls the blankets up and off the bed, snickering. Uruha immediately curls himself into a ball against the frigid AC air.

“Up!” Reita cackles as Uruha flips him off, and then saunters out of the room. Uruha hides a smile against the pillow.

Asshole.

He’s lucky he’s cute.

 

* * *

 

“We should probably talk about last night, hm?” Reita hums into his coffee cup as they walk to his car. Uruha’s heart starts pounding.

“If I did or said anything embarrassing or uncomfortable last night I’m so sorry-“ he blurts, cheeks red, but Reita laughs.

“Relax, Shima,” he muses. “You were a perfect angel all night. Well, except for when you tried to take my pants off- I’m kidding!” He cackles at the look of horror on Uruha’s face. Uruha resists the urge to smack him.

“Asshole,” He grumbles, getting into the passenger seat of Reita’s car. His own car is still parked in the garage from last night, but he’ll come back for it later. Right now, this conversation is more important.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” the dom laughs, climbing into the driver’s seat. He places his coffee in the cup holder and sends Uruha a playful wink before starting the car. Uruha tries to pretend he’s not blushing. “You were perfectly fine.”

Uruha sighs a soft breath of relief. “I was?” He asks one more time, just for confirmation, and Reita chuckles and nods.

“I promise. Um...” the blond blushes and starts driving, playful tone replaced by a shy one. “How was it? For you?”

Uruha would be swooning over how shy and small and cute Reita had just gotten, if he wasn’t having a mini panic attack trying to sort out what to say in response. He averts his gaze in embarrassment.

“It was.. um, good. Really good,” he says.

Perfect. Euphoric, Everything I’ve ever dreamed of, he doesn’t say, but wishes he could.

“It was? Are you sure?” Reita asks and Uruha almost want to smack him again, this time for doubting himself. Reita’s perfect in every way imaginable, what’s he got to be insecure about?

“Yeah,” he says instead, then takes a deep breath and adds, cheeks pink. “It was actually kind of amazing.”

Reita does a double take and Uruha has to avert his gaze again.

“R-Really? So it worked?” The dom asks, voice full of awe. Uruha nods.

“I think so.”

Silence fills the car, Reita’s fingers drumming against the steering wheel. Uruha has a question on the tip of his tongue, but it’s another moment before he’s able to force it out.

“How was it for you?”

“Oh-“ Reita seems more embarrassed than surprised by the question, cheeks pink again. “It- It was actually really nice.”

A bomb of happiness bursts in Uruha’s chest. It takes a lot of effort keep from beaming, but he thinks he manages it okay.

“Really?” He does not, however, manage to keep the giddiness from his voice. Reita blushes harder and nods.

“I’ve never done that before. Like for real. Honestly I always thought that it was something doms did for their subs out of like... well- not obligation- but you know, like they didn’t get anything out of it but they did it anyways to make their subs happy,” he hums. “But last night... I’ve never felt that way.” His voice tapers, like he’s embarrassed, and Uruha thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world.

And, just because he can, he prods a bit.

“What way?”

It takes Reita a moment to respond, both because traffic has picked up and because, well it’s a difficult question. If someone asked him to explain what it’s like to be in subspace, it would take him a minute to think of a response too.

“You... trusted me, so much, to do that. I could have done anything to you,” he says, slowly. “But you trusted me not to. To literally have your life in my hands... it was... and this isn’t a cop-out, I swear, but it was indescribable.”

There’s a thick feeling in Uruha’s throat and he quickly swallows it away, taking a sip of his coffee for good measure.

“I know,” he adds softly. And he does. Not exactly, because he’s never dropped someone else, but it’s the same principal. It’s indescribable.

Reita shoots him a shy smile, and this time Uruha can’t stop himself from beaming.

 

* * *

  

When they walk into the studio, everyone else is already there. They're not late, but they're not exactly on time either, and Uruha's suddenly thankful for the coffee Reita had made him as Ruki shoots them a look. He can already feel that the singer is going to run them ragged today.

"Good, you brought Uruha. Nice to see you on time," The singer hums and Uruha knows it's in jest but it doesn't fail to kick him into gear, setting his stuff down and grabbing his guitar. He's got one more song left to record his part for, and then it's on to the producing stage. It's exciting – it always is, completing an album – but with everything changing around him, this one does especially. It's difficult to explain, but something is telling Uruha that this new album and subsequent tour are going to be like nothing he’s ever experienced before.

But maybe that’s just last night’s euphoria talking.

He's checking the tuning of his guitar when suddenly Ruki pauses and turns slowly to face him, eyes wide. The sub feels as though he's been caught, but doing what, he's not sure. He pauses too, fingers hovering over the tuning peg, but then Ruki's smirking and turning away again.

Ten minutes later, Uruha catches Kai watching him as Ruki whispers gleefully in his ear. The dom turns away when their gazes meet, but it's not quick enough. Something's going on.

Later, when they're recording, Ruki keeps sending smug looks towards him. He does his best to ignore it, needing to get through the last of his parts, but when Aoi starts smirking as well, Uruha can't help but feel as if he's been left out of some kind of joke. He glances towards Reita to see if he's in on it too, but the dom has his nose buried in his phone, typing away frantically, oblivious. Uruha's gaze snaps back to Ruki, feeling a little put out, but now the switch is looking away as well, turning to their producer to ask him a question.

When they break for lunch, Uruha, in his desperation to get away from prying eyes, volunteers to get everyone food from the cafe down the street. He's hoping Reita will volunteer to come with him, but Ruki notices the glance between the two friends and interjects before anyone else can.

"I'm coming! I need to stretch my legs," he hums, hurrying over to Uruha, and suddenly Uruha knows what this is all about. Ruki knows about last night.

The sub almost gives Reita a pleading look, hoping he’ll do something, but then thinks better of it. Ruki’s relentless, and it’s better that the switch confront him when it’s just the two of them instead of doing it in front of the whole staff, managers and all. So, albeit reluctantly, Uruha grabs his wallet and allows Ruki to usher him out the door.

Uruha can tell Ruki’s just bursting during the elevator ride down. He tries to ignore it, doing his best to pretend everything is normal, but the second they make it to the street, Ruki’s grinning and poking him.

"So... how was last night?"

Uruha flushes bright red.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he huffs, even though he does. They both do, and they both know Uruha's playing dumb, but that doesn't stop Uruha from trying to stall. It amuses Ruki, apparently.

"Did you get the dick?" He snickers. It throws Uruha off his guard.

"What!?"

"You know what I asked! You guys hung out last night, and then you came in together this morning. You’re practically glowing, Uruha. I can put the pieces together."

Uruha flushes harder, heart beating fast in his chest.

"We didn't sleep together. We just talked," he says, a little defensively. Ruki gives him a raised eyebrow, like he knows there's more, and Uruha caves. "And he dropped me."

"Oooh, saucy. And how was it?" Ruki's grinning now and Uruha can't help but grin as well.

"I don't kiss and tell~"

"Oh so you kissed~?"

"Well, no-" He admits.

"But you told him about your feelings?" Ruki prods.

"Well no-" Uruha braces himself for a scolding.

"Wait wait wait- let me get this straight." Ruki stops in his tracks in the middle of the sidewalk. "So you went over to his house last night to have a heart to heart, you talked, and he dropped you, but you didn't tell him how you felt?" Uruha looks away sheepishly but nods. He hears Ruki sigh. "So he dropped you just for fun?"

"We agreed on a friends-with-benefits relationship. With dropping-" Uruha winces as Ruki inhales sharply and then smacks him on the arm.

“Dumbass!”

“You don’t have to be mean-”

“You asked him to be your fuck buddy!?”

A man gives them the side eye as he passes them on the sidewalk and Uruha wants to melt into the sidewalk cracks.

“We’re not fucking, just dropping-“

Ruki scoffs and starts walking again. “Dumbass. You know that friends with benefits shit literally never works out. ESPECIALLY when one of you has feelings for the other. You lied to him. It’s gonna get all kinds of fucked and you know it,” the switch grumbles and Uruha hurries after him.

He does know it, but he’s been trying really hard not to think about it. When they reach the cafe, Uruha holds the door open for Ruki, who stomps through, looking thoroughly pissed. It cows Uruha a bit, and the sub hangs his head, following after him. He tries desperately to think of some sort of explanation, some reason to make Ruki not mad at him anymore, but its not till they’re waiting for their order to be made that he’s able to force the words out of his mouth.

“I just don’t want to lose him.” They come out weak and pitiful, and even though he knows it’s not true, it feels like everyone in the shop is looking at them.

Ruki sighs softly in understanding, but his words are said with an undertone of bitterness that makes Uruha flinch. “I know. But that’s a dumb reason to overcomplicate things, and it’s not an excuse to use him.”

And then the conversation’s over.

Uruha feels like shit for the rest of the day. He thinks he does a pretty good job of hiding it, until he notices both Reita and Aoi sticking to his side like starfish, dom instincts picking up on his distress like moths to a flame.

It’s comforting, but it also makes him feel like shit. Ruki’s right. He’s too insecure to tell Reita the truth so he’s using him instead. And now he’s manipulating both Reita and Aoi with his fucked up emotions.

It’s fucked.

He’s fucked.

And he still has to pick his car up from Reita’s after work.

Fuck him.

 

* * *

 

As soon as Uruha and Ruki leave the studio, Reita knows something is up. The singer never volunteers that quickly to go out, always leaving the errands to the rest of them while he keeps working. Reita’s struck with a need to go as well, to protect Uruha from whatever mischief Ruki is up to, but Kai stops him before he can.

“Hey, Rei, can I ask you a question about the bridge?”

“Sorry, yeah,” he hums, a little distracted as he watches Uruha slip outside with Ruki, before turning to face Kai. There’s a look on the other dom’s face when Reita turns to him, but it’s gone before the blonde can ask about it.

“I just wanted to see how you felt about this. I think Uruha changed the solo up a bit from what we had planned, and since it’s just the three of us playing on that part, I wanted to get your opinion,” the drummer hums, walking over to the monitor and sitting down.

“He didn’t change it much,” Aoi hums from where he’s lounging on the studio couch, playing a game on his phone. “He just added a couple of dominant sevenths instead of sticking in the major key. It’s not a big deal.”

Kai rolls his eyes. “Didn’t ask for your opinion-” he mumbles, pressing play on the monitor.

The solo section of the song fills the room as Reita watches from over Kai’s shoulder. Aoi’s right, Uruha didn’t change much, but he’s wrong that it’s not a big deal.

It’s gorgeous. It sounds better than what they had planned. The rhythms match up better, it flows more smoothly, and the sevenths add a tone to Reita’s bass line that makes him wonder why they didn’t think of that in the first place. It hits him that Uruha's solo is perfect for Reita's bass line in the same way that Uruha is perfect for him. 

It takes a moment of silence for him to realize he said all that out loud. And more. Kai and Aoi are staring at him. He blushes hard.

“What’s up with you today man?” Kai hums. “You’re more moony over Uruha than normal.”

Moony?

That’s definitely an overstatement.

He spares a glance at Aoi, who’s smirking a little over the screen of his phone, sound effects from his game still faintly audible.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You asked me what I thought of his solo, I told you.”

Aoi snickers. “Yeah, told us that you and Uruha are a musical match made in heaven. That his solo skills are a gift from the gods. What else is a gift from the gods, hmm?”

 _His thighs,_ Reita thinks, and makes sure to keep his lips sealed shut this time.

“A little birdie told me you two came in together this morning-”

“We always do-”

“After spending the night together.”

And it’s only because he’s feeling backed into a corner that Reita plops in the squishy office chair and decides, _fuck it._

It’s not like he and Uruha agreed not to tell anyone.

“I dropped Uruha last night.” He can’t help but grin when he says it, even though he knows there’s a blush on his cheeks.

Kai and Aoi evidently were not expecting that. Their eyes widen almost comically and Aoi drops his phone, scrambling from the other side of the room to sit in the chair across from Reita.

“Holy shit, really?” Kai gasps in awe and Reita blushes further, nodding.

“And he wanted it?” Aoi asks. Reita shoots him a glare, but admittedly, the question isn’t unwarranted.

“He actually asked me to,” he admits. Aoi’s shoulders relax a bit at the sight, and Reita does his best to ignore the guilt poking at his gut. Uruha forgave him for what happened, it’s in the past.

“So how was it?” Kai prods, redirecting his attention and Reita’s thankful for it.

“It was amazing-” Reita starts before realizing he sounds kind of like a gushing school girl, but then both of them are grinning like they know exactly what he’s talking about. “Is that always what it’s like?”

Kai nods, and Aoi shrugs. “In my experience,” the guitarist hums. “It’s better when it’s with someone you care about. But yeah, it’s always pretty great.”

In truth, Reita can’t imagine it being that good with anyone but Uruha, but he’s absolutely digustingly head over heels for him, so it makes sense.

“So are you two together then?” The question comes from Kai, who’s grinning so smugly it doesn’t seem like he cares either way, but Reita shakes his head.

“No,” he admits. “He was really nervous when he asked me to drop him, and I mean I know it takes a lot of trust for subs to let anyone do that to them. I didn’t want to spring anything on him.”

It was a bit selfish of him, in hindsight. While it's true that he didn’t want to make Uruha overwhelmed, it's also true that there was a part of him that had wanted desperately to know what it was like to be that intimate with Uruha, and feared any confession from him would drive the sub away.

“Besides, he doesn’t want to get together. He asked me because I’m his best friend, not because he suddenly has feelings for me or anything,” He adds.

Neither Kai nor Aoi look like they’re in any way convinced nor happy with that answer, but it doesn’t matter because neither get the opportunity to respond anyways as the elevator dings and Reita’s heart stops. He gives the other doms a very serious look.

“Not a word.”

Neither Kai’s “zipping of the lips” nor Aoi’s sly wink do anything to soothe his worries, but as Uruha and Ruki walk in, bags of food in hand, he figures he might as well take it.

 

* * *

 

Uruha’s silent on the drive back. In fact, he’s been silent most of the afternoon and it’s really starting to worry Reita. He can’t help but fear that maybe Aoi or Kai let something slip and now Uruha’s mad at him. He grips the steering wheel tight with anxiety, eyes glancing at Uruha in the passenger seat every few minutes. When they pull into Reita’s parking garage, Reita quickly turns to him before he can get out. “Hey, you okay?”

Uruha doesn’t look him in the eye when he answers, and it makes him even more nervous. “Yeah, just really tired.”

Bullshit.

But Uruha’s already climbing out of the car, shouldering his bag and walking in the direction of his own car. Reita clambers out and follows him, feeling all too afraid that last night was their first _and last_ time together.

“Hey,” he calls, stopping Uruha before he’s too far away. “I’m sorry-” he blurts. Uruha stops in his tracks and turns to face him, confusion on his face. Reita gets a dizzying sense of deja-vu, but pushes it down.

“For what?”

“I… I told Aoi and Kai. I couldn’t help it.” He scratches the back of his neck and looks at the ground. He waits for the quiet, “I know,” or the angry, “how dare you!” but neither come. 

“You did?” Reita can't make out Uruha's expression and he feels a little numb because of it. He nods dumbly.

“I know we didn’t say whether we were going to tell the others, but they could tell something was up and I wanted them to know that it was something good, you-you know? B-Because it was something good, right?” He stuttering now, but he can’t help it. Moments from the night before, from this morning, of holding Uruha against his body, of stroking his cheek and carrying him to bed, flash through his mind. Uruha's soft, sweet, spacey smile is burned into the back of his eyelids, there every time he closes his eyes, and he really doesn’t want last night to be the only time he gets to see Uruha like that.

And then Uruha’s beaming and Reita’s worries leave him in a rush.

“Yeah, Rei, it was something good,” the sub murmurs shyly, and he suddenly looks as if a weight has been lifted off his own shoulders. Reita wonders if maybe he’d been waiting for the confirmation as well. “Besides, I kind of told Ruki.”

Oh.

Well that explains a lot.

Reita can’t stop himself from smiling, and before he knows it, he’s leaning in to scoop Uruha into a bear hug. Uruha laughs against his shoulder, light and soft and so fucking cute and Reita feels like he can take on the world like this.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Uruha hums, a little giddily, when they pull apart. “Night, Aki.”

Reita watches as Uruha sends him one last smile before turning and walking to his car. “Night, Kou.”

_I love you._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive!  
> I'm so sorry it literally took me ages to upload this but I promise, the next chapter is already in the works, and with the holidays coming up, I'll hopefully have more time to write.  
> Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for being so incredibly patient and supportive. Life is crazy right now, but you guys make everything worth it <3  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and again, thank you for your kind words and love!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed

This must be what limbo feels like. 

Caught between two worlds, two emotions, two desires. 

It's been two months since he and Reita had started their little arrangement, one since the GazettE had released their new album, 2 weeks since they had begun their new tour. 

Uruha's happy, very much so, with the way things are. Nothing is better than coming home after a long day at the studio with Reita and kneeling by his feet, head pillowed on the dom's knee as he reads a book, fingers curling gently through Uruha's hair. It's been nice, having someone to go to when he gets overwhelmed, someone to submit to when he needs to feel a little light, someone to take the world's burdens off his shoulders. 

It's been nice to be so close to Reita.

But it's not enough, it never is, and he hates himself every day for being so fucking greedy. 

He wants to hold Reita. Wants to kiss him, touch him, love him in all the ways Reita deserves to be loved, but he's a coward. 

Because what they have now isn't enough, but it's something and he doesn't want to risk that. 

Hate is maybe the wrong word for the way he feels about himself. He and his therapist have been working on finding himself again, on focusing on parts of himself and his life and his hobbies that make him happy, that make him feel good about himself without needing someone else's praise. She's stressed, pretty vehemently, the importance of being happy with yourself and not turning someone else into your only source of happiness, and Uruha, surprisingly, agrees. 

It's easier, he thinks, to feel content by Reita's side when he feels content with himself. When he doesn't have to worry about how he looks or how he acts because he knows that he, in all his imperfection and brattiness and moodiness, is okay as he is. When he can sit by Reita's side and think, yeah, Reita is a gift from the gods, but maybe, just maybe, I am too. 

He's not quite there yet, he'll admit. He's got a long way to go. 

But he's on his way and it feels nice. It feels really fucking nice. 

And it also feels really fucking nice to have Reita pick him up from therapy, smiling ear to ear with pride at how far he's come.

Uruha's practically living at Reita's place now. It's not every night, but it's a good amount of the week. This isn't the first time Uruha's stayed with him for a long stretch of time, but it just makes sense with their arrangement. Uruha's normally too spaced out and exhausted to drive home after a session and besides, something's changed between the two of them. They don't talk about it but it's palpable, and it makes staying together, and sometimes sleeping beside one another, just feel... right. They've been by each other's sides every day of their lives and yet somehow every dropping session brings them closer together. It just makes sense that they'd want to be together more often, even when they're just hanging out as friends. 

In fact, this tour might be the first time they're not staying together consistently. They haven't told the staff about their arrangement, so their manager had booked four rooms in each of their hotels. Uruha misses Reita, hates that he can't curl up next to him after each live, but he also knows he's not ready to tell the staff. Besides, what's there to tell? They're not dating. So it remains quiet. 

That's not to say they don't sneak into each other's rooms once in a while, but that's nothing new. No one suspects a thing. 

Sometimes Uruha catches looks from the others–even Ruki now that he's warmed up to the idea–little smirks and snickers and winks that make him flush in embarrassment, but part of him doesn't mind. 

It makes him feel warm and fuzzy to think there's something there, something more between him and Reita, for the others to make fun of. 

 

* * *

  

Uruha's adrenaline is through the roof. Maybe it's the lack of sleep he got the night before, maybe it's the seven expressos he had spaced throughout the day, maybe it's the crowd, loud and absolutely batshit crazy. For whatever reason, Uruha's adrenaline is going wild and he's on top of the world. He's headbanging, running around, screaming into the mic and hitting every note perfectly like he was born to play guitar, and he was. Uruha was born for this and it suddenly strikes him that it's the first time in a year that he's really, truly believed that. 

It's the first time in a year that he's really, truly, felt like himself again.

Sweat pools on the back of his neck and it's gross but it feels so fucking nice to be like this again, sweaty and gross and burnt-out exhausted and high off the sound of the crowd. There's a girl in the front row that's been crying since they walked out on stage, and Uruha knows how she feels. 

He kinda feels like crying too, but it's a good kind of crying, the kind of crying that only happens at finales or at Tokyo Dome, even though this is neither, but that's okay. During Aoi's solo, Reita comes over to Uruha's side and leans their backs together like he had during the first concert that Uruha had taken off his collar, and Uruha can't keep the smile from his face. He's found his love for the stage again and he's never been so happy. 

He's fucking invincible. 

 

* * *

 

Uruha's punch drunk as he stumbles off the stage after the encore, or at least that's what it feels like. His heart is pounding in his chest like a jackhammer and his lungs feel full of oxygen, stage fog, and elation. He's a little dizzy and he must look like a whole mess, but he knows he's fucking glowing. He hands his guitar to the guitar tech and gives a quick, breathless thanks before making his way back to the green room, Aoi and Ruki in tow. Everyone else is grinning as well when they collapse on the couch, silence broken by the sound of their panting. A moment later Kai walks in, followed by an assistant who places his ice bucket on the floor beside him, his hands already halfway submerged. Reita is last to make it to the green room, towel already hanging around his neck, and if Uruha was breathing hard before, he's sure as hell not breathing now. 

Reita's so fucking hot.

There's sweat beading along his forehead and dripping down his temples, stained blue from the hair dye Uruha had helped him reapply the night before. His shirt is soaked with sweat, muscles visible through the thin t-shirt he had put on for the encore. As he pulls off his mask and sweeps the hair off his forehead, Uruha gets a glimpse of his eyes, makeup smudged and pupils blown from the adrenaline of performing. 

Uruha swallows thickly around the lump of arousal suddenly in his throat. God, he wants to climb that man like a fucking tree. 

He can't help but stare for as long as he's allowed, admiring the bassist in all his glory. He watches as Reita pulls out his ear monitors and hands them to another tech assistant, drools as Reita pulls off his t-shirt to wipe his chest down with a towel, and only looks away when Ruki elbows him sharply in the gut. 

"Your infatuation is showing," The switch teases under his breath, and Uruha feels his cheeks grow hot. He catches Aoi snickering from across the room and has to duck his head, busying himself with getting changed as well. When he looks back up and catches Reita's gaze, the dom sends him a little smile and Uruha flushes further, wondering if he had been caught. 

When they're all dressed and ready to go, Uruha packs up his stuff and follows the others out to the van. He trails close behind Reita, waiting for the dom to turn to him and say something about the live or about how tired they all are, or maybe even how pretty he had been on stage, though that last one is more of a fantasy than anything close to a reality, but the dom doesn't say anything, eyes slipping shut as he slides into the van. Uruha sits beside him, waits another moment and tries to ignore the disappointment when he gets nothing. Tonight was good, Reita's just tired, and Uruha needs to chill. He's not going to let that ruin his night. 

His body has pretty much calmed down from the live, adrenaline fading to bone-deep exhaustion, but he's still dizzy and just a little high off his emotions. He could probably use a drop at some point tonight, but for now, he won't concern himself with that. 

The ride from the venue to the hotel is quiet. There will probably be a group meeting tomorrow to talk over the live, discuss things that went well and things that didn't and things that need to change, but for now, everyone is content and much too tired to do anything but bask in the satisfaction of another live done. Uruha glances over at Reita once more but the bassist's eyes are closed, head tipped back against the headrest in an obvious attempt to get some sleep. So Uruha leaves him be. 

Ruki and Kai are the first to depart, Ruki dragging his half-asleep boyfriend into their hotel room with a half-hearted wave. Aoi is next and Uruha tries to keep the blush off his cheeks when the guitarist winks at him as the door clicks shut. 

Reita hasn't made any indication that he's up for a session tonight, so Uruha pushes down the need bubbling beneath his skin. He doesn't want to be a bother. He's about to slip into his room, ready to collapse face-first into his bed, when Reita stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

Uruha starts, the touch sending a jolt down his spine, and he can't stop the flush from reappearing on his cheeks as he turns to face Reita.

"Hey." It's one word, but it's enough to send Uruha's heart fluttering. Uruha hides a small smile, letting his gym bag rest by his feet. 

"Hey." He's glad his voice comes out normal because he certainly doesn't feel that way. Reita still has his makeup on but now his hair is tied into a top knot, and before Uruha hadn't thought it was possible for him to get any hotter but now? Uruha might as well be a puddle of mush on the floor. "Good show tonight."

Fuck, he's so dumb.

Reita chuckles, a look of fond amusement on his face. 

"Can I come in?" He hums, eyes flickering towards Uruha's open hotel room door, and Uruha chokes a little at the connotation of those words. He nods anyways and steps aside for Reita to walk in. If he takes a peek at Reita's ass while he follows him in–well– there's no proof. 

They both drop their gym bags by the door, kicking off their shoes and making their way into the room. 

"You did a really good job tonight," Reita hums, glancing up at him with a soft smile as he kneels to untie his shoelaces. Uruha, who is already sitting at the foot of his bed, blushes and smiles. 

"Thanks. It felt really good," he admits shyly. Reita's smile turns into a grin. He tugs a bit on his shoelaces, not really paying attention to them anymore, and it makes Uruha giggle. 

"Yeah? I could tell. You seemed really... vibrant." 

"You noticed?" Uruha's beaming now, he's sure of it. Reita beams back, nodding, then pauses, glancing down at his shoelaces. He sighs under his breath, finally wrestling them undone and standing to kick off the offending shoe. Then he walks over to where Uruha's sitting, smile back on his lips and hands in his pocket. 

"Of course I noticed. You were really something else tonight." 

Uruha's heart stutters. Reita draws closer and Uruha forces himself to meet his gaze, smiling wide. "Thanks, Rei. You did really well too." The bassist shrugs. 

"Thanks, but not like you." The way he says it leaves no room for argument, but Uruha can't argue anyways. His tongue has seemed to stop working and all he can do is smile dumbly up at Reita, heart caught in his throat. Not a moment has passed since the live ended that Reita's disheveled appearance hasn't made his stomach flutter, and Uruha bites his lip subconsciously at the sweet smile Reita is sending him. 

Neither of them have mentioned dropping, but they don't need to. They both know what they're here for (other than just spending time with their favorite person on the planet). 

A moment passes, then Reita's lips form an oh, and he starts. "I have something-" He turns, rushing over to his bag. 

Uruha watches as Reita crouches and begins to rifle through it. When he straightens back up, Uruha's eyes widen. 

Reita's holding his pillow. The one he uses when he's under and kneeling by Reita's feet so his knees don't get bruised. He had thought it had been left in Reita's room from the last time they had used it, but evidently Reita had brought it to the live. 

"I always have it in my bag," Reita admits quietly, as if he knows what Uruha is thinking. "It's just easier. That way we don't get caught off guard. If something happens, I'll always be prepared." 

Uruha doesn't know what to say. Reita's taking care of him, that much is clear, and yeah, they've always taken care of each other, but this... this makes Uruha's knees weak and his head grow foggy with...

Oh fuck. 

He's slipping. 

Uruha blinks a few times to snap himself out of it. He doesn't want to go under yet. When he meets Reita's gaze again, he realizes he's been silent for at least a minute as he gets his heart under control, and now Reita looks nervous and almost ashamed of the pillow in his hands. He opens his mouth, probably to apologize or some shit like that, so Uruha stands quickly, breathing in to cut him off. 

"Thank you, Rei. That's really sweet of you," he says shyly, a small smile on his lips as he walks over and gently takes the pillow. Now that he's much closer, he knows Reita can easily see the blush on his cheeks but it's worth it when Reita's anxious frown turns back into his gorgeous smile. 

"Do you want to get ready for bed first or–?" 

"-No." The answer slips from his lips without permission, but he's not surprised by it. 

That makeup is going to be the death of him.

He wants Reita to drop him like this, wants to look up in a drunken haze and see Reita, stage makeup on and looking every bit like the badass rockstar that girls and guys alike fawn over. 

His cheeks flush at the thought but Reita doesn't look surprised. It's not very often that Uruha feels patient enough to get ready for bed before going into subspace. He supposes he should be more considerate of Reita and not force the dom to put him to bed when he's boneless and exhausted post-drop, but Reita never seems to mind so sue him if he indulges a little. 

Tonight is no exception. Reita takes his request in stride, nodding and moving to place the pillow on the floor beside the desk chair. He grabs two of the complimentary glasses and fills each with water before grabbing his book from his bag and placing them all on the desk. Uruha stands silently, enraptured by his little pre-drop ritual. 

It never fails to make Uruha feel all warm and squirmy. Reita's first drop was only two months ago and yet already he's prepared for each and every one, tuned into Uruha's needs without any effort. He's an absolute natural and he doesn't even realize it. 

It drives Uruha's inner sub crazy. 

Once Reita's settled in his chair, he moves the pillow so it's sitting beside his left foot. Uruha waits for Reita's gentle smile before walking over and sinking to his knees on the pillow. 

Instantly his head drops to Reita's left thigh and it's barely a second before he can feel Reita's fingers carding through his hair, gently detangling the stiff hair-sprayed ends. He takes a moment, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. Then, shifting so he can rest his cheek on Reita's thigh, he gazes up at the dom, already feeling a little fuzzy. 

Reita's staring down at him, an unreadable look in his eyes, but Uruha isn't paying attention to his expression, to be honest. 

It's exactly as he imagined. 

Sure, maybe Reita isn't dressed in all black, maybe the sweat is gone, his hair isn't styled and he's not wearing that mysterious, sexy mask, but god, is he beautiful. Uruha swears on his life that there's no one with prettier eyes than Reita. 

"Akira?" He breathes, and then feels a little bad when he realizes he had cut Reita off mid-sentence. He hadn't even realized that Reita had been talking, but he keeps going when he notices that Reita's listening anyway. "Will you talk to me today?" 

Reita looks surprised for a moment. Normally, Uruha's content to sit in silence or mumble to himself as Reita reads (although sometimes Uruha catches Reita staring when he thinks Uruha isn't paying attention). Uruha only asks him to talk him through a drop when it's been a bad day and he needs something to distract him before he starts spiraling. This time, though, it's for an entirely different reason.

Uruha wants to stare into those eyes for as long as Reita will allow him, and if that means making him talk, Uruha's willing to try. 

For a second he's afraid Reita will say no, but then he's smiling that soft smile that he only has when he thinks Uruha is being ridiculously cute, and nods. 

"Of course, Ko." 

Uruha melts a little more. 

Reita gently taps his chin to signal for him to lift his head. It's a command, albeit a silent one, and it sends a little thrum of pleasure down Uruha's spine as he complies, lifting his head from Reita's thigh so the dom can get comfortable. Once he's seated so that he can look down at Uruha without hurting his neck, Uruha lays his cheek back on Reita's lap, feeling any remaining tension leaving him in a soft sigh. Reita's hand returns to his hair, stroking gently. 

"How deep in are you?" he asks softly and Uruha hums a bit in response. 

"About halfway there," he guesses. He still feels pretty alert and awake but his body probably wouldn't listen to him if he tried to get it to move. Reita nods and brushes the hair away from his face. Uruha can't help but let his eyes flutter shut at the feeling. 

"How deep do you want to go tonight?" He opens his eyes at Reita's question but merely shrugs. Reita hums. "Use your words."

Uruha knows that Reita doesn't really need him to use his words, but the dom is using every opportunity to slip a command into their little conversation.

"I don't know," he tries again. "I feel okay tonight, I just wanna..."

"Just wanna relax?" Reita helps him out and he blushes and nods. "I can do that," Reita hums and it's not supposed to sound suggestive but it does anyway. 

"Yeah?" Uruha challenges. If he wasn't already halfway to subspace, he probably wouldn't be so bold, but he's fuzzy and happy from the live and Reita's played along with everything else tonight, so screw it. There's a smirk on Reita's face as he nods. He moves his fingers from Uruha's hair and if he wasn't already so relaxed, the sub probably would have flinched when Reita suddenly brings his hand close to his face. 

"Close your eyes," he hums softly. Then he brushes the pads of his fingers down from Uruha's forehead to his chin, just gently caressing over his brows, nose, lips, then chin, forcing Uruha's eyes closed in the process. It's soft and sensual and Reita's never done it before and now, Uruha's stomach is permanently flipped upside down. And then–just because he's feeling a little bold–

"What if I don't want to?" 

There's a pause and silence and Uruha briefly wonders if he went too far. Then,

"So that's how it's going to be tonight." 

Uruha opens his eyes, gazing up at the dom with a challenge in his eyes. Reita knows he's just playing–if it wasn't obvious by his expression, it would be by his body. He may be challenging Reita with his words but his body is relaxed and submissive, soft against Reita's leg. 

"I want to see you. I can't if I close my eyes," he hums, fluttering his lashes playfully. Reita laughs.

"Aren't you cute?" he says, but his voice is different now. It's deeper and rougher and in combination with the smeared makeup, heat suddenly starts pooling in Uruha's belly. The look in Reita's eyes has changed too, become darker, and Uruha has to bite his lip to keep back a sound of want. 

They're coming close to crossing some sort of line, but Uruha doesn't want to stop. 

"Rei." It comes out as a breathy whimper and something flashes in Reita's eyes. Then there's a calloused finger on his lips, silencing him. 

"Close your eyes." The command is firm this time and Uruha's eyes snap shut. His tongue darts out to wet his dry lips before he remembers Reita's finger is still there, but the dom doesn't even move as Uruha's tongue brushes the pad of his finger. The callus feels rough against his tongue and Uruha knows his cheeks are probably bright red. The heat in his gut turns to full-blown lust. 

God, this is so wrong.

Uruha's breath is stuttering now and he lets his lips part against Reita's finger. The room feels stifling hot and Uruha's regretting his decision to wear sweats back from the venue, but he knows it would have been worse if he hadn't changed from his costume at all. 

"That's it," Reita purrs softly. "Good boy." He moves his hand down to gently hold Uruha's chin, dragging Uruha's bottom lip down in a way that should be illegal. It steals the breath completely from Uruha. His touch is so gentle, so reverent, and yet so controlled. It's unbelievably hot. 

With a start, Uruha realizes he's almost completely under, so focused on Reita's touch that he hadn't noticed himself sinking. 

"Ready to listen now?" 

This Reita is so different from the soft, sweet, shy dom he knows. Uruha isn't sure how to respond, so he doesn't. "Good boy. How far under are you now?" 

Uruha's mouth is dry again so it takes him a minute to reply. When he does, much to his embarrassment, it comes out as nothing but a weak whine. 

"All the way?" Reita's voice is amused. It would feel mean coming from anyone else, but it works on him. Uruha forces himself to nod, the movement redirecting his attention back to Reita's fingers on his chin. "Good." He's silent for a moment, the silence cut by the sound of their ragged breathing. "You're so beautiful like this." 

It's whispered, and part of Uruha feels like maybe he wasn't supposed to hear that. His heart flutters in his chest, and oh god-

He's hard in his pants. 

Fuck.

He can feel himself tense at the realization, suddenly wondering if Reita's noticed yet, but then Reita's fingers move to gently stroke his jaw and the tension melts out of him once more. 

"Easy. Relax." 

Boy, does Reita's voice do wonders on him. 

His dick is still pressing against the soft fabric of his sweatpants and he does his best to ignore it. Maybe if he can forget it's there, it'll go away, right? 

"That's it. You're being all sorts of disobedient tonight, hmm?" Reita's teasing him again. "That's cute."

Okay, that's not helping his erection go down at all. Reita doesn't seem to notice, or if he does, he doesn't care. He just keeps talking. 

"But I know that's not how you really feel," he hums softly. "You want to submit. Deep down, you want it, you just like being a little  _brat_." His thumb presses down on Uruha's bottom lip. 

Oh fuck. 

What happened to the sweet, shy Reita that Uruha grew up with? Uruha doesn't care to know. This is possibly the sexiest thing that's ever happened to him. 

He doesn't have control over his body anymore, lips parting easily under Reita's touch, though the dom doesn't go any further, just holding Uruha's chin, thumb resting on his lip. Uruha's eyes are still closed and he can only imagine the picture it paints for Reita. The sub is breathing hard now but the rest of his body is putty. His shoulder is leaning against Reita's knee, and Reita's hands on him are pretty much the only thing keeping him upright.

His brain is so fuzzy he can't focus on anything but Reita. Where are they? What time is it? What was he doing four hours ago? He has no fucking idea. 

"Fuck," Reita almost growls and Uruha's dick jumps in his pants. "I love seeing you like this." The thumb presses in a little further, the tip of it brushing Uruha's tongue again, and he can't stop the soft whine that escapes his throat. "You'd let me do whatever I wanted with you, wouldn't you?" 

It's true. Uruha would let Reita do whatever he wanted at this point, and Reita knows it, and it's hot as fuck. But what's even hotter is, despite that, Reita wouldn't. The dom would never do anything without his express consent. Furthermore, he doesn't _want_ to do anything without Uruha's consent. Reita can tease about Uruha's powerlessness, can coo about how submissive he is, but at the end of the day, Uruha knows Reita cares so much about him and how he feels that there isn't anything he wants more than to make sure Uruha is sated and happy. 

And that might just be the sexiest thing in the world. 

Uruha wants to touch himself so bad, but it would mean admitting how fucking turned on he is by all of this, so he stays still, lets the heat coil in his belly and his dick throb in his pants, probably staining the cotton of his underwear. 

He'd be embarrassed if he wasn't so far under. He's thankful for that. 

Uruha hears Reita take in a ragged breath and wonders if Reita's as affected by all of this as he is. 

_Not possible,_ he thinks. He's absolute mush at this point. 

"How far under are you now?" 

Uruha swallows thickly around the drool that's been pooling in his mouth from holding it open for so long, tongue brushing Reita's thumb again. He wants to open his eyes and see Reita, but the dom commanded him to keep them closed, so his eyelids won't work. He tries to respond instead but it just comes out as another whine. 

"That deep, huh? Fuck." Reita sounds impressed now. "What a good boy." 

Uruha positively shudders this time. Part of him thinks he could cum from Reita's words alone, he's so fucking close, but it's still not quite enough. Without any sort of touch, he's stuck right on the edge. He feels like he's going crazy. There's no way Reita hasn't noticed just how turned on he is at this point. 

Uruha's not sure how long he sits there, just listening to Reita praise and tease him. At some point Reita starts asking him little questions that make his mind run wild with dirty thoughts, but he hasn't made a coherent response since he first slipped under and now is no different. He's babbling and stuttering, and whining dumbly, but Reita doesn't seem to care anyway, just humming in amusement, humoring him, and then moving on to the next question. 

His brain is complete mush. He's so far under that when Reita's phone starts beeping suddenly, he probably wouldn't have even noticed if Reita hadn't paused what he was saying to check it. 

"Hold on babe, I've got to get this," he hums, swiping and holding the phone up to his ear. 

Uruha wonders if Reita had noticed what he'd called him.

The sub doesn't listen to what Reita's saying and the dom doesn't move, one hand still on Uruha's chin, but now that his attention isn't focused solely on Reita's voice, Uruha can feel the headspace slowly lifting. He comes out of the drop effortlessly and painlessly, blinking his eyes open, and when his mind clears, it feels completely sated and at peace. 

The same can't be said for his body, however. 

Now that his mind isn't filled with a subspace haze, the strength of his arousal hits him full force. He sucks in a sharp breath, eyes squeezed shut. 

Holy fuck, he needs to cum so bad. 

He quickly tries to push the need away. Reita's still in the room, even if he's not really paying attention anymore. Uruha takes another deep breath, trying his best to calm his body down even if it's just for a few moments. When he's got his breathing under control, he wipes his hands over his face, trying to get a hold of himself. Then he pulls away from the dom, stretching his arms and back. His spine cracks satisfyingly and he takes a few more deep breaths as the throbbing need in his gut starts to fade. It's still there, just not as urgent anymore. 

Reita's still on the phone when he pulls away. The dom glances down at him, not expecting it, so Uruha gently pats his knee to let him know he's okay. He can hear Reita quickly wrapping up his phone call, so Uruha begins the next stage of waking himself up. 

His knees are completely numb. Normally they'd take breaks during a session to stretch but this time, neither of them had been paying attention. 

Uruha tries not to think about what had been distracting them and instead focuses on getting the feeling back to his limbs, gently rubbing the sore muscles. 

"You okay?" Reita's voice, sudden and loud, makes Uruha jump. He flushes and nods, glancing up to meet Reita's gaze. It sends another shock through him and he has to swallow thickly, pushing away the arousal once again. 

"Yeah, I'm okay. Can't feel my knees," he hums, a small smile on his lips. He hopes Reita doesn't notice how strained it is. He wonders if Reita's going to bring up what had just happened, but then the dom is standing instead, reaching out to help him up. 

"Sorry about the phone call." He sounds way too apologetic, and Uruha is momentarily caught off guard by how sweet Reita is acting, a total 180 from how he had been acting only ten minutes ago. He swallows thickly, again, and then takes Reita's hands, letting the dom pull him up.

"It's okay," he hums. "It's getting late anyway. I had to come up eventually." He tries to sound fine as he says it, but far too much of his brain power is going towards trying to act normal as Reita pulls him up and holds him by the hips while the feeling comes back to his legs. 

Uruha feels like he's going to have a heart attack, but that's nothing new. 

Reita's expression is worried as he watches Uruha, and Uruha can't ignore the way it makes his insides all squirmy, the way it heightens his arousal once more. He's worried Reita's going to try to discuss what happened between them, and so as soon as he regains his ability to stand, Uruha pulls away from Reita and averts his gaze. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" Reita asks again as he hands him a glass of water. Uruha gives him a weak smile and nods before sipping it, mouth still dry. 

He's definitely far from okay, but Reita doesn't need to know. 

"It's late," Uruha hums when he's finished the glass. "Sorry for keeping you so long." 

Reita shakes his head and helps him clean up. "Don't apologize, I wanted to be here. I want to be here." 

His words are sweet, and god, does he love this boy, but Uruha wants him gone right now. He's not even going to deny it. He wants Reita out so he can take care of his little problem, the one that keeps getting bigger the longer Reita stares at him with those smudged, dark eyes. 

He's just thankful his erection isn't as obvious beneath his baggy sweats. 

But Reita doesn't seem to want to leave on his own, so Uruha takes a deep breath, gives Reita his biggest smile, and gently steers him towards the door. 

"Are you sure? You don't need me to stay?" He asks and Uruha forces out a small giggle, meeting Reita's gaze. 

"You're too sweet Rei. I'm fine. It was a good session. We have a long day tomorrow, so go get some sleep." 

Finally, the dom relaxes with a soft sigh. "Okay. You promise to call if you start to drop again?" 

This time, Uruha can't help the smile on his lips nor the pang of want in his gut. Reita's too sweet for his own good. "I promise." 

Reita gives him one last look, picks up his gym back, and then hesitates by the door. "Goodnight, Kou." 

Uruha grins and gently pushes him out the door. "Goodnight, Akira." 

When he's sure the dom is down the hallway and out of earshot, Uruha turns his back to the door, heart racing. Hurriedly, he shoves his sweats down his thighs and wraps a hand around his cock, moaning low as he finally seeks release. 

When he comes he sees stars. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays everyone! 
> 
> My sincerest apologies for once again going awol, things have been crazy. I can't promise they'll get better from here, nor can I promise that the next update will be soon, but I thank you and love you all from the bottom of my heart for sticking around and being so supportive. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!


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